When the Bough Breaks
by Ravenia
Summary: Six years after the events in Threshold, Teagan and Neria find the peace of their lives interrupted by a violent attack that leaves them reeling and trying to reconnect with each other.  Rated M for violence, language. Features Anders and Nathaniel Howe.
1. Chapter 1

AN: A warning. This is a bit of a darker tale than my previous submissions here. This story will contain some violence and rape, though I promise it will be resolved in a timely manner and not go on forever in an angst overload. If this type of story is not to your liking, please go read something else. There are lots of fluffy good stories on the site here.

_Some tales simply demand from an author to be told and this is one of those for me._

_My thanks to Cadsuane for her editing skills and to Bioware for its excellent world, all rights and properties to the world of Dragon Age belong to them, not I._

* * *

When the Bough Breaks

Chapter One

She stood on the battlements of Castle Redcliffe, looking out over the lake. Often she came here to watch the sun rise over the water. It was her favorite time of day, a time of quiet and contemplation when the rest of the keep was asleep.

A side effect of the Joining, one of many Duncan had neglected to inform her, was recurrent nightmares as she tapped into the group mind of the darkspawn. Even six years later, with the Blight ended, they still happened more often than she liked. Alistair had warned her that for some, the nightmares never stopped. She supposed she was one of those more "sensitive" types, as he called them. The nightmares often woke her and rather than wake anyone else, she often got up and went outside. The sunrise was a daily occurrence and she found the idea of the order of it, of the way it never changed, was soothing to her after the chaos of her dreams.

Teagan was still sleeping and she contemplated going inside to wake him with kisses, but he'd been very busy yesterday preparing for their departure today, and hadn't come to bed until late into the night.

Spring had arrived and the banns would be heading toward Denerim for their Landsmeet. Although she would be accompanying him to Denerim, she enjoyed their trips only because they meant a stop over at the Circle Tower to see Connor.

Muffin, her mabari, nosed her hand and she idly scratched behind his ears. He was getting on in years now and his muzzle was frosted with white. Though he still remained active and playful, he was slowing down.

"Back to Denerim again, Muffin," she whispered. His ears perked in her direction at the sound of her voice and his stumpy tail wagged. "I hate it there. Damn snobs."

The nobility had never accepted her place in Teagan's life. She was tolerated at best. There were some notable exceptions to this rule, and she did have her supporters, but on the whole most of them disliked her presence in their society. Arl Teagan was too well placed in it for them to say much though. The Chantry wasn't too thrilled about a free mage, Warden or not, either and she wondered just how long it would be before the grand cleric tried to put a stop to her presence here in Redcliffe. Just let the old biddy try….

"You like it though, don't you, boy?" she said with a grin. "I wonder how many more requests we'll get for you."

He was still in high demand from the kennel masters, and she had kept him busy as a stud following the war to breed puppies. Those mabari pups were highly sought since he was the Hero of Ferelden's dog and people wanted to touch something of that bloodline and fame. Even if they objected to her personally, that didn't extend to her dog.

With a sigh, she reentered the keep, passing by a guard who smiled and nodded. At least the people of Redcliffe looked fondly upon her. She smiled and nodded back and moved into the keep.

In their room, she found him still sleeping peacefully in bed. Grinning, she slipped out of her robes and into their bed and snuggled close to her lover, finding him warm after her early morning excursion into the cool spring air.

An arm went sleepily around her and pulled her close to him and she closed her eyes, enjoying the feel of him pressed along her length.

"It'll be time to get up soon," he whispered. "Although I see you've already been up. Another nightmare, love?"

"Mmhmm," she murmured. Her hand slid along his body under the covers, feeling the play of muscles under them.

"I'm sorry. I wish I could do more to help you. You can wake me, you know."

She had long ago explained the cause of her nightmares as the Joining. At first, Teagan had been a bit upset to learn what it had taken from her to become a Warden—the sacrifice of years of her life, peaceful nights and children. But her being a Warden meant her being here with him, so he had accepted her explanations and was grateful to have her here in any capacity. Being a Warden had given her an opportunity to see Ferelden as she would never have had trapped in the Circle Tower. It had allowed her to be on hand in Redcliffe when he most needed her and to stop the Blight that had threatened everyone in the country.

So he had never voiced any dissenting concerns to her. He simply accepted how things were and was happy to have her with him. Neria was grateful for that and thanked the Maker every day for him.

"I know, love, but you were up so late I didn't want to disturb you. I trust you took care of everything though?"

"Indeed. Drew will watch over things here while we attend to the Landsmeet," he said. "You can get a couple more hours sleep. It's too early to go yet."

Sleep was the last thing on her mind.

"So, do we get an early start today toward the capitol or do you want to partake of some of the Grey Warden perks?" she asked.

"There are perks?" he responded, eyes closed.

"Of course, there are perks," she giggled and kissed the chest under her lips.

"Oh!" he grinned. "Those perks. You little minx, we get started and it'll be late afternoon before I even get out of bed. I know your wily ways now."

She clucked her tongue and sighed, her fingers tracing the line of muscles along his abdomen. "You know me all too well, love."

"I know you don't like Denerim, love, but we can stop over in the tower and see Connor."

"I know. I've missed him, and it'll be good to see him again."

He rolled over to face her and caressed her cheek, kissing her tenderly. "Connor will be glad to see you as well. I think my nephew has quite a crush on you."

"Jealous? Should I then be trading you for him when he's finished with puberty?"

He frowned in mock seriousness. "You'd better not, you minx! You told me you loved me. You're stuck with me now!"

"Lucky me!"

She giggled as he growled and pulled her into his arms. Running her fingers along his cheek and temples, she noted the touch of gray there now, and a few more crinkles at the corner of his eyes. But this was still the same Teagan she had met the first time she came to Redcliffe.

"I love you, Teagan," she whispered.

"I love you too, Freckles," he said and kissed the tip of her nose. "And you missed your chance at some extra sleep. You look too delicious this morning."

She laughed as he kissed her, and then her mirth died on her lips as his kisses grew deeper. Their departure was only slightly delayed by Teagan's dalliance with his mistress. No one said a word, glad to see how happy the Hero of Ferelden made the Arl of Redcliffe.

* * *

Their first stop on the way to Denerim was the Circle Tower where Teagan's nephew, Connor, had been studying for six years now. At sixteen he was nearly of an age when his apprenticeship would be done and his Harrowing would take place. Irving had told them he felt confident Connor would pass without much difficulty and said he hadn't seen such a promising student since Neria.

"This will probably be my last student, Neria," Irving confessed. "I'm too old to be chasing after young ones in the tower. I was too old when you came here, but I couldn't trust your education to any other mentor."

Neria smiled at her mentor. "I was quite the handful wasn't I?"

Irving smiled. "You were always getting into trouble. I'm glad Connor seems more serious about his studies. Teaching him has been a delight. I was thinking he might be ready for his Harrowing soon. Do you think you could be on hand to attend? I know it would mean a lot to him."

"Of course, Irving, just let me know when."

They stayed for two days and then headed off toward Denerim. In the carriage were Neria, Gwyneth, Teagan's four year old niece, and her nanny.

* * *

"When I grow up, I'm going to be a mage!" the little girl informed her nanny. "Just like Mama and Connor!"

Her nanny looked to Neria uncomfortably.

"We don't know who will be mages," Neria said. "We are born—it's not something we're taught. But we must be taught to control our powers because we can be very dangerous to people around us."

"I want to light candles on fire like Connor!"

She had been watching earlier as the boy had shown her his new trick, one Neria recalled as an exercise in fine control that Irving had taught her as well. It had been one of her last lessons before her own Harrowing. She prayed Connor would be ready for it.

Gwyneth climbed into Neria's lap and laid her chubby cheek on the elven woman's bosom. Neria ran her fingers through the child's honey colored hair, trying to settle her down a bit.

"Mama, when can I be a mage? And go study in the tower?"

Idly, Neria smiled, watching the passage of countryside outside the window, her mind ahead of them in Denerim already.

"Not for several years at least."

"But how soon?"

"I don't know, Gwyn. You may never be able to do magic. This would be a good thing."

"Boring. I want to do magic."

"Well, that won't be for a long while. I knew a few mages who didn't find out until they were teenagers. I was about five I think when I was brought to the tower. Jowan was a year or so older than I. We learned what Connor was about six years ago."

"How old was he?"

"Ten."

"How old am I now?"

"You're four."

"How many years until I'm ten?"

"You're pretty determined about this, aren't you?" Neria asked with a giggle.

"I want to do magic. How many years?"

"Well, you have this many years until you're ten."

Sensing an opportunity for an impromptu math lesson, Neria opened her little hand and showed Gwyneth her age now. Then she took her own hands and opened them, showing her six more fingers. She urged the little girl to count all the fingers.

"Eight, nine, ten. So, I will be ten?" she asked, more interested in the magic than the numbers.

"And how many more years?" Neria asked.

Gwyneth counted them out on Neria's hands. "Six years. That's _forever_," she wailed.

"Even more, Uncle Anders didn't show his powers till he was much older, this many years at least," she held up Gwyneth's other hand and opened it on all five fingers.

Gwyneth seemed to contemplate it and frowned as if she didn't like the answers she was getting.

After a bit, the swaying of the carriage lulled the child to sleep and Neria cuddled her. Gwyneth was adorable and precocious, and she loved her uncle and Neria as the parents she had lost too young to remember. If this were all the family she was to have, Neria was grateful. Teagan, Gwyneth and Connor completed her life and it was more than she had ever dreamed she would have growing up in the Tower.

Life was good.


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Some lemony goodness before the dark times begin. (M) rated content ensues. _

* * *

Chapter Two

Days later, upon arrival at the estate of the Arl of Redcliffe in Denerim, Teagan checked with the caretaker for letters, news and other issues that would be addressed at the Landsmeet. Neria made sure Gwyneth was settled down in the nursery for a nap and looked to see who had sent invitations to them.

"Nate and Regina are here," she said to Teagan. "As are the Couslands. We're invited to supper at both estates."

"Any news from Alistair?"

"Oh, something here from him. He insists we come over as soon as we're settled in. He has some good news for us."

"I wonder what he wants," Teagan said.

Neria shrugged. "I don't know. I'd like to see him though. We didn't get to spend any time together last fall. Edwina had him in West Hills again. He says that's starting to look a lot better now. They're hoping to move people back in next year, maybe."

Most of West Hills had been burned, and the land was just starting to recover from the taint of the horde. It would be many years before the forests returned, but there was hope on the horizon.

"The kennel master at the Couslands' is asking for Muffin's services again. I'd say he has a couple more good years in him for studding," said Neria. Muffin barked. "I thought you'd be happy to oblige, boy."

"There are some things I need to attend to here at the moment," said Teagan. "We can go later if you want?"

"I guess so…." Neria was disappointed but she could wait. Teagan chuckled and put down his letters to come hold her.

"But you really want to go," he said.

"I've really missed them. And I love playing with their children."

"When Gwyn is up from her nap, we can go then," he promised.

* * *

Later that afternoon, Teagan, Neria, Gwyneth, Gwyneth's nanny and Muffin called on the Couslands. The four children ran off to play, followed by harried nannies, while the adults walked toward the kennels.

"Iyala's gone into heat already. We were hoping you'd arrive in time. She should be ready in a day or two," said Leah. "Bryce and Eleanor are old enough for puppies, though Rory has a couple more years to go before he can have one."

They delivered the mabari to the kennel master who would be taking care of him while they waited for the Cousland dog's estrus to reach fruition.

"Be good, Muffin," Neria said in parting to her old friend. "I'll be back in a couple of days to get you."

He barked and wagged his tail and followed the kennel master into the kennels.

Bann Sighard and his wife and son were here as well, and everyone caught up on all that had been going on with each other that winter. Neria was glad that at least this family didn't despise or disapprove of her. Bann Sighard's wife, Enilda, was especially kind. Though he still had a noticeable limp, Oswyn was able to walk and run after Neria had healed him following his torture in Howe's dungeons. It was nice for Neria to see some of the good results of her actions, even after this many years.

Gwyneth begged to be allowed to stay a couple of days since there weren't any children her own age in Redcliffe, so Teagan and Neria returned home alone that night. It had been quite a while since they had some time just to themselves.

They started the evening with a walk in the garden. After winter had locked the land in snow, the green of the growing things around her, the breath of the air on her skin, made Neria feel so alive. After so many years never leaving the tower, she loved just walking in the garden.

Giggling, she kicked off her shoes and, bouncing on the stepping stones, quickly outpaced Teagan. He chuckled and bent to pick up her shoes, following her slowly. There was a stream in the center that not only served as irrigation, but also was pleasing to look at. She paused on the little bridge that spanned it and waited breathlessly for him to catch up.

He was smiling as he approached her, pausing before her to look down at the locket he had given her nestled in her cleavage, his hands tracing the delicate gold chain, his fingers brushing her skin. Hazel eyes met blue ones in the pale silvery light of the moon and Neria felt the night couldn't be more magical.

"You look so beautiful in the moonlight…" he whispered.

Dropping her shoes, he cupped her face in his palms and bent his lips to hers, his kiss leaving her dizzy and swaying on her feet. Placing an arm around the small of her back, he supported her as his lips moved down her throat. He pulled down one sleeve to bear her shoulder to his kisses and she shivered as his touch sent spirals of pleasure along her spine to her core.

Tilting her head, she nipped the lobe of his ear gently and fanned her warm breath across it.

"Catch me if you can," she whispered, her voice husky with the emotions this man always stirred in her.

Then with a giggle, she raced off again, heading toward the estate's interior.

"Neria!" he called after her. She just giggled again and raced faster.

She heard his footsteps following and she kept up the game, running down the halls, dark red hair trailing around her shoulders like a banner unfurling. Reaching a corridor not far from their rooms, she turned around, but didn't see him. _Now where had he gone_? She wondered.

Turning around, too late she saw him come around another corner. He laughed and grabbed her up, raining kisses on her cheeks, throat and bosom. Squealing in delight, she kicked her feet and wrapped her arms around him, holding him close to her.

"You little minx! Caught you! Do I get a reward?"

Hooding her eyes giving him her best "come hither" look she smiled. She could feel his response on her thighs growing as she spoke. "Anything you want, love."

"Hah! Then if it's my choice, I'm going to have my wicked way with you!" he exclaimed, kicking open their door and carrying her to their bed.

Playfully tossing her on the bed, he pounced with a mock growl eliciting playful squeals from her.

She smiled as Teagan removed her garments, kissing the bared skin as he did so. Even six years later, he was still romantic and fun. And, Maker, those blue eyes. She had never seen in anyone else's eyes what she saw in Teagan's.

He nipped her bare skin gently with his teeth, making her blush pink and giggle with delight.

"Laughing at me, eh?" he grinned. "What am I to do with you, you little minx?"

She wrapped a leg around him and slid her foot behind his knee and along his inner calf. "Love me?" she offered.

He grinned. "I think I can manage that."

"Oh! You! Like it's some big sacrifice, huh? Not one of your better come backs. You aren't as charming as you think, Arl Teagan." Her tone was without bite, being it was said breathlessly and playfully.

He kissed her shoulders and along her collarbone, his tongue stroking along her skin making her shiver and gasp in a pleasure that belied her words.

"I've never had any complaints so far," he murmured, his warm breath feathering over her breasts.

He took one peak into his mouth and sucked on it, his tongue lovingly stroking it. Her hands fingered through his hair and pulled him closer to her burning skin. Words were starting to leave her mind though she struggled to keep up the teasing banter. She felt his knee part her legs and his thigh brushed the sensitive juncture there.

"I…could be the…oh, Maker…first…." She ran her hands over his shoulders and frowned. "And why do you have so many…clothes on? Maker! There!"

His own voice was broken and breathless himself though she could tell he was trying to stay in control. "I said I…was having _my_ wicked way with…you, Neria. I know what would happen if… you got your hands on me…."

He kissed lower over her smooth stomach, his tongue leaving wet trails along her skin, pausing to dip it into her navel and then move lower still. Tucking her legs over his shoulders, he parted her folds with his fingers and delved into her.

"Oh, Maker! Teagan!" she gasped, eyes closed, face glowing with pleasure.

He paused, lifted his head and grinned. "What's that, love?"

She knew her exasperation would just heighten his teasing, but she couldn't help it. The man drove her to distraction in all the most pleasurable ways.

"Damn you! Don't stop, you wicked man!"

"You wanted to say something though, what was it?"

"Maker's breath, don't make me use my magic on you!"

He laughed. That was hardly a threat, she knew, because she said it so often and had yet to use it once.

"Now that didn't sound very loving, Neria. I'm hurt."

She closed her eyes and lay back, trying to get her breathing under control. "You know how I feel."

"Maybe I want to hear it, now."

"Maker's breath, love, don't be a tease!"

He blew his breath across her almost painfully sensitive sex. The tremble in the hands that gripped her hips belied his calm. He was as aroused as she was, but their game continued.

"Say it, Neria."

"My charming rogue."

"Good one. And…?" He kissed her inner thigh.

"My sexy arl."

"Oh, I like that one! I'll have to remember that one. And…?" He kissed her sex.

Her voice softened as she said the words she knew he wanted to hear. "I love you, Teagan."

"Now that's what I like to hear."

He bent to her and she closed her eyes as he teased her soft folds with his lips, tongue and teeth. She bit her lip, trying not to cry out as first one finger then another dipped into her, stroking her, and he chuckled at her restraint.

His fingers continued their sweet torture, his thumb caressing the sensitive bundle of nerves at the top of her cleft as he pulled up. "Gwyn's not here, love," he said by way of reminder. "And the servants won't care what we're doing. You can be as loud as you want."

Shyly at first, because she wasn't used to it, she got louder and louder as his hands and fingers drove her beyond restraint. Teagan seemed to relish it and she let loose for the first time in years, moaning and crying out as her tension grew and it finally found release.

He kissed his way up her trembling body, gently easing her down from her climax as his touch slowly reignited her desire. One of the advantages of being a Grey Warden was her heightened appetites and stamina, and that extended to this aspect of their lives together.

His hands came up to embrace hers, a gentle caress up her arms. When he kissed her, she could taste herself on his lips and she parted her mouth, letting him taste inside her there with his tongue.

"Teagan, take me, please," she begged when he broke the kiss.

With shaking hands, he pulled his jerkin and shirt off, tossing them across the room. He fumbled with the ties of his trousers and finally in frustration, Neria rose and, with a wicked grin, pointed her finger at the laces and summoned a tiny flame to burn through them. Then, she yanked his pants off him and threw them on the floor.

"Maker's breath, woman!" he gasped.

Now it was her turn as she growled playfully and pounced him. Pushing him down, she kissed him, then straddled him. She grasped his member and placed it to the edge of her entrance then wriggled down onto him. His hands came to her hips to guide her pace as she rode him. She let him direct her as she moved up and down on him, meeting his upward thrusts with her down stroke, their breaths becoming ragged as passion wove its own magical spell around them.

Her eyes closed, head rolling back, she felt his hands leave her hips to caress her breasts, letting her control the pace of their joining. With a groan he shuddered beneath her, his seed spilling into her and she felt her own climax come on her quickly, leaving her limp and breathless in his arms. Laying across his chest, her red hair fanned out over him, she closed her eyes, reveling in his embrace. Kissing his chest under her lips, she could hear the racing of his heart when she placed her cheek there.

Idly, the fingers of one hand played with her tapered ear and she could feel the calluses of his thumb as he ran his other hand along her spine.

"I love you, Teagan," she whispered in the quiet around them. "You make everything right."

The sleepy rumble of his voice warmed her. "I love you, my wanton little innocent. Or is that innocent little wanton? I can never make up my mind."

He kissed the top of her head then moved under the covers to go to sleep, beckoning her into his arms.

She didn't fall asleep immediately after making love and instead cuddled up to Teagan. He put an arm around her, but was soon asleep himself. She lay there in his protective embrace and smiled as she drifted off to the Fade.

* * *

A couple of days later, Gwyneth and her nanny arrived back at the Arl of Redcliffe's estate.

"The kennel master asked me to tell you that the dog has done his duty," Nan told Neria when she arrived back at the estate. "He says Muffin should be ready to pick up tomorrow morning once they are certain he's done."

"Teagan's going hunting with several of the banns tomorrow, but it's no problem for me to go pick him up myself in the morning. We're expecting Nate and Regina over tomorrow evening for dinner."

Anders had arrived with Leonie Caron, the Warden-Commander and Arlessa of Amaranthine, and he visited with Neria that afternoon. It had been a couple of years since she had seen him and his cat, Ser Pounce-a-Lot and they caught up on old times.

"Still staying out of trouble?" Neria asked him, scratching Ser Pounce's chin.

"Mostly," he said. "I went back to give a lecture at the Tower last fall."

"Lecture…or gloating?" she grinned. She remembered his last trip to the Tower when she was Warden Commander had led to a yelling match between several of the templars and Anders.

"I'm entitled to a little bit of both, don't you think?" Anders smirked.

"Not if it leads to trouble," she pointed out.

He shrugged. "Well, they rarely can hold me for long. Besides, my fellow Wardens won't let them keep me, I'm too valuable."

She giggled.

"I would imagine Spirit Healers are in high demand among active Wardens," she offered.

"And you? Is country living making you soft in your retirement?" Anders asked.

"Maybe a little," she grinned. "I'm happy, though, Anders, more happy than I could've imagined."

"I can see that. You're practically glowing. You'll let me know if he does anything to upset you, though, right? I'll be right here to pick up the pieces."

She giggled again, choosing to take his words as another friendly jibe. She knew he was only half joking. Anders had always had a bit of a crush on her, since they were of an age in the tower. She had been one of the few who had continued to be kind to him throughout his escapes, and had even managed to slip him the occasional note when he was in that year of solitary confinement. Under the pretense of having him chase rats, Neria had brought the tower's mouser, Ser Wiggums, to the cells to see Anders, to provide the young man some company in his isolation.

"I'd love to have you stay over a couple of days, I'm sure Teagan wouldn't mind. Nate and Regina will be over tomorrow evening and I know he'd love to see you."

He grinned. "Ah, you twisted my arm. How can I refuse such a request from a pretty lady?"

* * *

The following morning Neria woke early and found Teagan was up before her, having already left to attend the hunting party.

It was a gloriously sunny morning, the air crisp and clean. She kissed Gwyneth goodbye and bade her be good for Nan and Uncle Anders, who was sleeping in, and went to fetch Muffin from the Couslands'.

On the way home, she decided to stop at the Alienage market. The situation here was much improved since Alistair took the throne. They had their own representative in the Landsmeet, which had been a scandal for the nobles when Alistair appointed the hahren, Valendrian, to the position. That made life here a lot better as the elves finally had a voice in the governing of the country.

Gwyneth had begged for one of her favorite treats, apple tarts, from the market here and Neria was determined to bring her some. She bought several, tossed one to Muffin, who snapped it up and licked his chops looking for more.

"No, you glutton," she said with a giggle. "The rest of these are for Teagan and Gwyn."

"Well, well, what have we here?" drawled a familiar voice.

Neria felt her mouth go dry and the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Muffin growled next to her.

"Vaughan," she whispered.

"That's Arl Vaughan to you, knife ear," said one of the nobles who followed him around.

"Please, my lord, we don't want any trouble here," said the pastry seller.

"Silence, worm," Vaughan snapped. He stepped closer to Neria and she took a step back, bumping into one of his guards. "Teagan's whore and I are old 'friends,' aren't we? I told you I would find you and make you pay, didn't I?"

His voice chilled her and she was boxed in. She cast her eyes around the market, only to see all too many faces averted when their eyes met hers. There would be no help from anyone here, not that she could blame them. Vaughan literally held their lives and livelihoods in his hands.

"We don't need further…unpleasantness, do we, Neria?" he asked.

Muffin continued to growl and when he put up a hand to grab her arm, her mabari snapped at him, biting him.

With a hiss, he pulled it back and glared at the animal.

"Wretched beast!" he snarled, all veneer of false civility gone.

"Best you let me go on my way, Vaughan. Muffin is the least of your worries."

He looked at the man behind her and nodded his head slightly. Neria pulled up her hands, beginning to cast her spell. She normally refrained from using her magic when innocent bystanders were around, but surely she couldn't be held at fault for defending herself.

Muffin leaped at the man to her right as she released a cold spell at Vaughan, who was reaching for her.

Then pain exploded in the back of her head as the guard behind her clubbed her with the hilt of his dagger. Stunned, she dropped, the scene around her spinning sickeningly. She heard a menacing chuckle from Vaughan and a yelp from Muffin.

"Kill it and let's go," he said.

"No…Muffin…" she gasped.

She heard Muffin yelp once more before blackness overwhelmed her.


	3. Chapter 3

_AN: Warning: Anyone who has played the game knows what an ass Vaughan is and what he is capable of. No fluffy goodness this chapter._

* * *

Chapter Three

Awakening some time later to unfamiliar surroundings, she felt a soft bed beneath her, but she had been bound, with her hands behind her back. Pushing up with her elbows, she looked around, found herself alone and wondered where she was. As soon as she sat up, pain exploded again in the back of her head and her skull throbbed. Aware of dried blood in her hair, she didn't have to probe it with her fingers to know there was a knot on her head. With the part of her brain that was still viewing things objectively the thought came to her that she probably had a concussion. She lay back down, her stomach protesting at her movements. Of Muffin, she saw and heard nothing, and she worried what had become of her faithful companion.

When she had opened her eyes, the daylight filtering in the window was too harsh and she could only slit them enough to see her immediate surroundings. It was enough to see she was in a richly furnished room lying on a soft bed, her hands bound, though her feet were not.

Her hands were numb. She had no idea how long she'd been here, or how long she'd been trussed up unable to move. If she didn't release the pressure soon, she would lose the use of her hands.

She didn't know if she could stand unassisted, but she had to try. Attempting to scoot to the edge of the bed made her head throb in protest and she thought for sure she would topple over if she got out of the bed. Then the matter was taken out of her hands.

The voices were heard before the noise of the latch being released on the other side of the door as the door was unlocked. Apparently, Vaughan was taking no chances she would slip his grasp. When it opened, she closed her eyes, pretending to be unconscious still. Several sets of footsteps approached the bed and she heard Vaughan's voice.

"Wake her. I want her aware for this," he said.

She was manhandled up, her head throbbing and leaving her nauseated while cold water was splashed into her face. Gasping, her eyes opened to see three guards, his two friends, and Vaughan around her. Two guards held her firmly between them, and forced her to stand before her captor.

"Let me go." She surprised herself with how calm she sounded. "I won't tell Teagan what you've done if you just let me go."

Vaughan barked a harsh laugh and his hand came up to pinch her chin between thumb and forefinger.

"You won't be telling anyone anything when I get through with you," he snarled. "And you won't be freezing me again. Break her hands. I won't have her casting her magic at me."

Terror swept through her as she realized he had no intention of letting her leave here alive and they were going to take away her only means of resistance. She struggled and fought and it took all three guards to wrestle her to the stone floor. A dagger was produced and she was unbound, her hands held out before them. One of Vaughan's friends, a man she recognized as Lord Jonaley, took a wicked mace from one of the guards and nodded at her slowly, grinning, enjoying her struggles.

She tried not to scream as the mace slammed into the delicate bones of her hand with a sickening crunch she felt as much as heard. She managed not to cry on the first one, but by the time they moved to her other hand, they were no longer numb and it was so excruciating that she screamed in agony.

Sobbing, she rolled over onto her side when they released her and stood back.

Vaughan stood over her. "I can take it from here, men. Go have some fun with the others we brought back."

For long moments she nursed her broken hands, and then she felt his fingers dig into her scalp as he grasped her hair and pulled her up. She continued to struggle as he dragged her over to the bed and threw her down upon it. Pain shot up her arms, making her scream again, as she braced herself instinctively for the fall and she felt the weight put on them. He rolled her over, half on half off the bed, and hitched the skirt of her robes up over her hips. She kicked at him and caught him in the stomach.

Gasping and holding himself, he fell to the floor. If she was going to die, then by the Maker she wasn't going to make it easy for him!

Fear made adrenalin race through her veins, and ignoring the throbbing pain in the back of her skull, she made a dash for the door and tried to open it with her forearms. He was too quick for her. Grabbing her around her waist, he pulled her back, kicking and screaming toward the bed. This time he pulled out a dagger and put it under her chin once he had her pinned beneath him.

"Try that again, you knife-eared bitch, and I will cut you," he snarled. "You're going to lay here while I do whatever I want to you. Too good for me, are you? _Hah_!"

With the knife, he sliced into her robes, cutting them to the waist and then pulled her skirts up to bare her to him. The knife cut through her breast band, but he seemed to relish ripping her lacy smalls to shreds with his hands, his fingernails cutting into her skin leaving scratches. He used his knees to force her thighs apart as his touch bruised her in places she had permitted only her chosen lovers to caress. He latched onto one breast with his mouth, his hot breath washing over her, and bit into the soft flesh there, marking her. She cried out in pain and humiliation, wishing all manner of horrors on him, as if with the wishing she could will him into a horrible, flaming death.

She tried to buck him off, hoping if she couldn't, at least maybe the knife would hit something vital and end her suffering quickly. She was wrong on both counts. He laughed softly, his weight pinning her down into the mattress. She hadn't budged him at all, and her struggles seemed to have only aroused him further. The knife at her throat drew only a thin line of blood as it barely scratched the surface.

"So eager to have me inside you, elven temptress? Do I make you hot and wet despite your protests?" he laughed.

"You're disgusting! I want you off me!" she hissed vehemently, bucking again.

"I knew I'd have you eventually," he panted. "Give it up, whore, and stop struggling. It's not as if you haven't had a man before, and you and I both know how this is going to end. And I think I'll just put this where I can get to it. After all, we don't want you checking out of the party too soon, now do we? I want to see what you look like naked in the moonlight and that's hours away."

He shoved the blade into the headboard, leaving it embedded over her head, an ominous foreshadowing of things to come.

His hands moved up and grasped hers, squeezing them, and she felt the bones grinding together. She cried out again as fire shot up her arms. He laughed, a distant noise, as her head swam dizzily from the pain.

Then his hand moved between them as he fumbled with his trousers and she felt that offensive part of him probe her soft folds. By the way he was panting, she realized that he actually enjoyed her resistance and pain. He didn't want her to stop fighting him. In fact, he seemed to prefer it. Squeezing her eyes shut, she refused to encourage him and lay perfectly still beneath him. She wasn't going to give him the satisfaction.

By this time, she apparently didn't need to. Neria could feel her flesh tearing, wringing another cry from her, as he entered her dry passage and rode her with small animalistic groans of pleasure.

Only the initial thrusts were dry and painful. Reacting on age old instinct, her body managed to spare her further pain and suffering. Though her mind screamed against the assault, she felt the moisture as her body responded to the stimulus. Vaughan laughed, no doubt thinking he had won.

After what seemed an eternity, she felt him climax inside her, his body shuddering with the release. When he was finished, he collapsed on her, his head resting on her shoulder. In a gesture incongruously gentle after the assault, she felt his lips caress her shoulder in a kiss. There was no tenderness in it—it had more a proprietary feel to it, as if he was marking her as much as biting or clawing her had done. After he caught his breath, he pushed up on his elbows and looked down at her, his face twisted with sadistic delight.

"This was even more satisfying than I had hoped it would be. I don't know when I've had that much pleasure taking a woman," he gasped. "How did it feel to get a real man between your legs?"

"I can't believe you actually think you're going to get away with this. Teagan will have your head for what you've done!" she hissed. "Alistair will have you drawn and quartered!"

He laughed, a harsh sound that cut through the throbbing in her head.

"Still some fire left in you yet, bitch. I knew you couldn't be broken so quickly, but you'll know your place once I'm through with you," he said. Though he spoke aloud, it seemed he wasn't speaking to her, but merely voicing his thoughts. "No one will listen to those stupid knife-ears even if they do tell who took you. I'm the Arl of Denerim. I can have whomever I want, especially some tart who's spreading her legs for any old man who winks at her."

She couldn't bear him touching her, and she could already feel him hardening again as she argued with him. She knew he would violate her again and again until he had taken everything from her, even her spirit. She hated the smell of him on her and the smug expression on his ugly face. Even if she had to goad him into killing her, she wasn't going to suffer through hours, perhaps days, of torture and rape. Glaring at him, all the hate she could muster pouring from her eyes, she worked her jaw and spat in his face.

For a moment he was too stunned to move. Then he pulled back his fist and punched her. Her head snapped to the side from the force of his blow and she felt more force brought to bear on her.

Forgotten was the knife in the headboard as his fist slammed into her again, smashing her nose. She had actually hoped he would have used that to kill her quickly, mercifully, but apparently he was incapable of mercy. At first, the pain was excruciating, and then gradually grew more and more distant and less effective as hyper stimulated nerves began to shut down. He didn't seem to notice her mind turning inward as he rained blow after blow on her, hitting her and kicking her. In the end, she was curled up in a fetal position on the floor, trying to protect herself as best she could. He wasn't done with her.

Rolling her over onto her back his hands went around her throat, crushing her windpipe and closing it off. She struggled weakly as her vision grayed and her lungs burned. Her last thought before darkness overcame her was the regret she would never see Teagan and Gwyneth again.

* * *

Teagan arrived back from the hunt later that afternoon to find Neria had been gone all day. He was only slightly worried about her until he and Anders went out of the estate to try and backtrack her path and found Muffin, bloodied and nearly dead, staggering through the gates. Worry quickly changed to panic at the sight of her mabari. Struggling to keep his fears in check, he ran to the dog that collapsed at his feet.

The mabari looked up at Teagan with his large brown eyes and whimpered. Teagan looked at Anders who shook his head sadly.

"Where is she, Muffin?" he asked, knowing he wouldn't get an answer, but needing to ask anyway.

With a sigh, Neria's faithful hound closed his eyes one last time as the brave heart which had driven him here to Teagan gave out on him.

Teagan bit back tears, his fingers clenching in the animal's fur. He had grown fond of the dog over the past six years and knew Neria would be heartbroken. Where was Neria? Muffin wouldn't have been in this condition if she'd been able to heal him.

"They look like sword wounds," Anders said. "Who would do this, and what happened to Neria?"

"Let's follow the trail he made getting here," said Teagan, grateful the dog had found his way back. At least as his last act he would lead them to where he'd been attacked.

Teagan was an experienced tracker and the trail left by the animal was as glaring as a beacon to his trained eyes. It led past the market and through the Alienage gates. He marveled that the animal had gotten this far with such grievous wounds and that no one had tried to stop him. But then no one in their right minds got between a mabari and his objective. Not without losing an arm.

The Alienage. Teagan swallowed nervously, a sick feeling washing over him as he looked into the elven slums of Denerim.

"If I've told her once, I've told her a thousand times not to go through here. It's too dangerous. Where would they have gotten swords though? And why attack Neria? She's the sweetest, gentlest soul I've ever known."

Anders shook his head. "We should tell Nate and Alistair. They'll be furious if we don't. And we need to get some guards to back us up if this gets ugly."

Teagan dispatched messengers with haste to inform Nathaniel and Alistair of the missing Neria. Within the hour the men had gathered. Alistair had brought along a contingent of guards, including Sergeant Kylon, to search the city for her. Nathaniel was dressed for trouble in leathers and carrying his grandfather's bow slung across his back. Regina was present to offer moral support to Teagan.

"'Gina, you stay here," Nathaniel said. "Someone may try to get word to us here at the estate. And…" his voice lowered. "Teagan may need you if…."

She kissed her husband and shook her head. "Don't say it. You'll find her. I've never known anyone as capable as or more determined than you." He nodded. "Nathaniel. Please find her. Bring her back. She's the first woman friend I've ever had."

Chuckling, he caressed her cheek affectionately. "That's my 'Gina, always putting things into perspective for me."

"Oh, you! Go and bring her back quickly. That girl is going to get the scolding of her lifetime from me for worrying us all this way."

The search began in the Alienage where far too many eyes turned away, frightened.

"We know she was here when she was attacked," Teagan said. "Why won't any of you just admit it and tell us where she is?"

"Because we don't know where she is, shem," one woman spoke, her voice dripping with bitterness. "I would suggest that if she was young, pretty and breathing, you search the arl's estate. Although, I don't think even breathing is a criteria for that group."

Teagan turned and saw a young woman with fiery red hair detach from the crowd.

"Shianni, be quiet! You're going to get us all killed," gasped an older woman trying to grasp her arm.

Shianni moved out of the woman's reach and looked at Teagan.

"Nothing will ever get done as long as no one says anything. But I want to know, shem, why do you even care about some missing elven woman?" she asked.

Teagan frowned. "She's not just 'some missing elven woman.' She's the woman I love."

She uncrossed her arms and her face softened with compassion. "Then I hope for your sake it wasn't Vaughan who took her."

"Arl Vaughan? The Arl of Denerim?" Alistair raised a brow. "What has Arl Vaughan to do with this?"

"Vaughan kidnaps and rapes elven women. He was here earlier today and took four women."

Alistair looked at her, aghast, and Teagan felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach.

"How…how long has he been doing this?" Alistair stammered.

"Years. Ever since he could get a rise looking at a woman, I think. He'd come once in a while and take several of us back to his estate for 'parties.' Seven years ago, he interrupted my cousins Soris's and Kallian's weddings. Soris was imprisoned. Kallian and I…. Well, Kallian didn't come out alive. I think she was the lucky one."

"Why…why haven't any of you said anything?"

"Who would believe us? This has been going on for years. His father did it, too. My aunt, Adaia, was one of Urien's victims. No one cares about a few dead or beat up elves."

"I care," said Alistair, his face setting in a hard line.

"As do I," said Teagan. "If he has taken her, there isn't a hole deep enough he can climb into to hide from me."

Shianni raised a brow. Something akin to awe or hope touched her voice. "I almost believe you mean that. Maric and Cailan did nothing to stop Urien and Vaughan. It's almost too much to hope that you really can."

Teagan began to stride away, but Alistair stopped him.

"What?" the older man demanded.

"If we go there, tempers flaring, demanding Neria, we'll never find her. I've been in those dungeons. You can keep someone in there forever and they'll never be found. This is going to take someone with finesse…."

Teagan's gaze followed his to where Anders and Nathaniel stood nearby.


	4. Chapter 4

_AN: Wherein it is explained how Neria survived the assault in Rainesfere, and later in Denerim. _

* * *

Chapter Four

_She was surrounded by warmth and light that, instead of stinging her eyes, soothed and calmed her. Around her a thousand voices raised in song stilled her and comforted her. She remembered the words she said to Teagan in what seemed a lifetime ago, "Do you think it's warm in the Beyond?" She supposed she had her answer._

"_Am I dead?" she asked aloud._

"_What is 'dead?'" was the response, more in her head than in her ears. The voice was soft, mellifluous and infinitely compassionate. "Ahhh, cessation, ending, expiration. Such a strange concept. I am sorry."_

_She opened her eyes to see a bright light near her that had detached from the others. It seemed to be all around her, enfolding her in petal soft wings of luminous energy. And if light could exude an emotion, she felt an almost maternal love in its embrace._

"_Not dead. The Fade?" she asked. "I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming."_

_The spirit near her seemed to pause and almost sounded amused. "Do you dream of me? Or do I dream of you?"_

"_I don't know," she whispered. "Who are you?"_

"_I don't have a name. Why do you mortals insist on naming things?" There was a soft sigh, then, "I suppose you can call me by the virtue I aspire to. I am called Compassion."_

"_I know you, don't I?" _

"_Yes, we have been together a long, long time now. Long as you mortals reckon time. I came to you when you were very small and frightened and lost here in the Fade. I found you very curious and I couldn't let the demons hurt you. You shone with such light. I have been watching you since."_

"_You were there during my Harrowing and when I fought the demon to free Connor. You…you helped me."_

"_My contribution was little. You did all the hard parts."_

"_And later…you were there when…"_

"_When you expired, yes."_

"_I remember! I dreamed you healed me, kept me alive until help arrived from the tower. That was you!" she exclaimed._

"_That was me."_

"_No, wait…I was dead, wasn't I?" she asked._

"_You would have ceased to exist. But I couldn't let you expire that way. You had too much left undone."_

"_I'm dead now, aren't I?"_

"_Yes."_

_Tears welled up and overflowed. Never in all her life had she had more to live for than now. Teagan and her daughter meant everything to her. The feelings of warmth and love here felt like home, but she had so much left she wanted to do. She wanted to see Gwyn grow up and she wanted to say goodbye to Teagan, tell him she loved him one last time._

"_I don't want to be dead. Life was finally so good for me. Why am I dead?"_

_The spirit had no answers for her._

"_It's time to go back now," Compassion told her. "You aren't finished yet."_

* * *

It was cold. And wet. And every inch of her skin felt like it was on fire. She lay on her side along the shore, listening to the sound of water slapping against the docks. Her eyes were swollen shut and the simple act of breathing was an agony. It was dark around her, but she couldn't tell if it was morning or evening.

Coughing, she expelled water from her lungs, and was caught in a coughing fit despite her body's protests. Her ears picked up the sound of footsteps on the dock above her and she tried to cry for help. Only a small whimper came from a throat that felt like she'd been gargling with razor blades.

There was a pause. Then the steps approached her, and she heard a voice.

"I thought I heard something…. Maker have mercy, child!"

"Help…hurts…" she managed to gasp.

She felt large hands on her arms, rough with calluses, but gentle in their touch.

"I don't doubt it does. I'm so sorry. We have to get you somewhere warm and safe and dry."

He stepped away and she sobbed.

"Don't leave me here," she pleaded in a whisper, all her raw throat would allow her.

A rough blanket was wrapped around her and she felt herself lifted onto a canvas. Then she was hoisted and she realized she was lying on a litter. For a time her head swam between conscious and unconsciousness and she was unsure how long it took to travel. Then she was moved to a small bed, not much more than a cot with a pillow.

"We should tell Valendrian," said another man.

"No. You know who did this to her! If Vaughan learns she's alive, there's no telling what he'll do to us all!"

"Why bring her here then?"

"Because you know the humans won't care and I couldn't just leave her to die in the cold like that. I'd like to think someone would have done the same for Liara. At least here, she can be dry and warm."

"I'm surprised she's alive at all. She must have a pretty strong will to hold on to life like that. Surely she has someone who will care."

The voice snapped. "Does she look familiar to you?"

"She's one giant bruise, Andros. She could be my own mother and I wouldn't recognize her."

"Wait, what's this?" Andros pulled her locket around, disentangling it from her hair.

"No…please…Teagan," she moaned.

"A keepsake, maybe? And who's this 'Teagan?' That sounds like a human name. She doesn't look like anyone from the Alienage, no one I've seen before anyway," said the other man.

"Nor I. Perhaps she's with one of the noble houses in the city for the Landsmeet. Let's keep our eyes and ears open and see if we can learn anything."

Then darkness swept over her again and she slept.

* * *

It was decided that Teagan was too close to the situation. Despite his protests, and only acquiescing because even he had to admit this would take finesse, something he was sorely lacking in at the moment, Teagan had to watch from the Arl of Redcliffe's estate as Alistair, Nathaniel and Anders went with a contingent of soldiers to the Arl of Denerim's.

Nathaniel was glad Regina was there for the older man as he could only imagine how frantic he would be if Regina had been taken in this manner.

While Alistair and his soldiers went through the front door, Nathaniel and Anders moved around to the back and found an open window on the second floor. Nathaniel looked around and spied just what they needed.

"Anders, ever do any tree climbing?"

"Not since I was twelve," the mage replied, looking speculatively at the branches. "You think they'll hold us?"

Nathaniel shot him a mischievous smirk. "Only one way to find out…."

He swung into the tree and nimbly scaled its branches. Anders hiked up his robes and followed more cautiously, but soon they were both at the window. Slipping in they saw the room—a bedroom—was deserted. Moving across to the door, Anders paused and Nathaniel raised a brow in question.

The mage pointed at a telltale dark stain the rug quite didn't cover.

"Tell me that isn't what I think it is," he whispered.

Nathaniel crossed over to it and touched his fingers to it, smelled them. It was dried and hours old, but it was blood. A telltale tingle ran up his arm as he rubbed his fingers together.

"It's blood," he said. "Blood bearing the taint."

"So…unless Vaughan has a hankering for hurlocks…" Anders began.

"It's Grey Warden blood."

"Umm…you can tell that…?"

"I can feel the taint in it."

Anders frowned and shook his head, looking dismayed.

"It…might not be hers…"

"How many Grey Wardens are in Denerim? Do you honestly think he would do this to Commander Leonie?"

Anders snorted. "Just…trying to be optimistic. She'd have his liver on a stick. That bitch has nerves of silverite."

Moving to the door, Nathaniel pressed an ear to it, listening for noises in the hall. Opening the door carefully when he could detect no one present in the hall, he looked both ways. There was a long corridor leading to the main hall with several doors along the hallway. The other direction led to further rooms and a dead end.

The stains had been cleaned, but to Nathaniel's trained eye, they may as well have been marked with paint. He pointed toward the back hall as he began to follow the trail.

Anders followed him closely, trying to be as quiet as he could when Nathaniel hissed and pulled him back. They slipped into the room next to them as voices approached.

From the tone and the words, Nathaniel assumed that cultured voice belonged to Arl Vaughan.

"…of course, I don't mind. I never use the dungeons, so they'll be a little dusty from neglect. Howe was the one more interested in that. You can look anywhere you wish. So tragic, really. You'll convey my best wishes to Bann Teagan for the speedy return of his wh…mistress, but truthfully, who knows when she'll return. Perhaps she ran off with a woodcutter or something. One never knows with these knife ears."

Anders bristled, but Nathaniel put out a hand to hold him back and put a finger to his lips. They heard Alistair's stiff reply.

"Neria wouldn't do that. She's the Hero of Ferelden—she's more responsible than that."

"Of course, you knew her better than I. I can only speak of those elves I have…"

The voices faded as they moved around the corridor and down the hallway.

"He's a cool one," Anders said, frowning.

"He's hiding something for sure. Let's see if we can't follow this trail of blood."

A low moan nearby made them both turn to see a young elven woman lying in the bed, her form motionless. They approached her, compassion etched on Anders' face, no doubt mirroring his own expression. The spirit healer closed his eyes with a pained look as if he could sense the agony of her torn flesh. Nathaniel did a quick assessment of his own, finding she was battered and bloody, but her heart beat was still strong and most of the bruises were superficial. She pulled the sheets around her body, nothing but the tattered remnants of garments covering her limbs now.

"No more, please. Let me go home," she begged in a tiny voice.

"Did Vaughan do this?" Nathaniel asked.

Anders shrugged and raised a hand over the young woman, blue radiance emanating from his fingertips to ease her pain and heal her injuries. Nathaniel moved over to a wardrobe and pulled out a shirt and trousers. He brought them over to the girl and she pulled them on.

"No, Vaughan didn't do this," she said. "But his soldiers did. I was to be the captain's plaything until he grew tired of me."

"Maker's breath, how many others are here?" Anders asked.

"Carolys, Adri and I. And there was another, though I don't know her name. She wasn't conscious, so we couldn't speak to her, and she was taken elsewhere when we got here." She began to cry. "Adri wouldn't stop screaming and the man who took her beat her until she was quiet, then she wasn't moving. She wouldn't wake up and they took her body out earlier. Carolys is in the other room. There is a crack in the wall over here we've been using to talk to each other. I think she's…mostly all right."

"The other woman, did she have shoulder length red hair? She may have been wearing a dark blue robe with silver designs," Anders described Neria.

"Of little vines and leaves?"

"That's the one."

"Oh, Maker," Nathaniel sighed. "Can she walk?"

"Nothing's broken," Anders confirmed. "Let's get your friend."

Nathaniel put out a hand and grabbed Anders' arm. "No."

"No? Nate, are you crazy? These girls need to be taken out of here!"

"Oh, Andraste's mercy, please don't leave us!" she cried.

Nathaniel frowned, but he wasn't without compassion. "We're here to rescue all of you. Our friend is missing and we need to find her before we can get you out of here. If Vaughan sees us moving around with you, he'll call all of his soldiers down on us. If we can get you out of here, will you speak up against Vaughan and his men?"

"Gladly," she hissed, the word filled with vehemence.

"Let's go heal her friend at least," said Anders.

"You shouldn't have healed _her_. What if the captain comes back and finds her bruises gone?"

"Oh! I didn't think of that. Maker's mercy…. Maybe he won't notice?"

"Notice what? A couple of idiot sods like you in my room? Did you come here to steal something?"

A voice from the door caught them by surprise. With a whimper that left no doubt who the man was at the door, the elf ran to the other side of the room and cowered in a corner.

He pulled out a longsword and moved towards them.

He'd barely gotten three paces before Nathaniel had pulled his bow, notched an arrow and shot it through his throat. Gasping, dropping his blade and grasping at his throat, the man collapsed with a gurgle, choking on his own blood.

"Well, now you've gone and done it," said Anders, shaking his head.

"He deserved it and more. I'm just sorry it was over fast. I hope it was painful," Nathaniel said.

"You know, you have some really dark places inside you," Anders said, frowning. "What will we do with the body?" he asked, stepping back from the blood pooling near his feet.

"I'll…I'll hide it," said the girl. "And I'll clean up the mess."

"Thank you," said Nathaniel. "We'll be back for you, I promise. Tell Carolys to be brave, help is here."

Before he slipped out of the room, Nathaniel saw the girl move over to the man who had been her tormentor and kick him with her foot.

Following the trail of blood, they found it branched off away from the dungeons toward the larder. A couple of elven servants were the only ones there cleaning the hearth and preparing the morning meal.

The older looked up as Nathaniel and Anders entered the room. Then, they went back to their tasks, their minds more on that than two shems passing through the larder.

The trail of blood led outside and past the estate walls. Nathaniel made a note of it then nodded.

"Time to get those girls out of there and let Alistair finish up with that creep," Nathaniel said.

"Where do you think the trail leads?"

"Out there? No telling. I'm guessing…" Nathaniel's voice dropped. He didn't want to say what he was thinking.

"What?" Anders asked.

Nathaniel went back in through the larder door and moved down the hallway they had passed. He freed the first elven woman and then found her companion in the room next to hers in a similar state. They slipped back down the hall cautiously.

The only guard they encountered, a man heading to the privy, was knocked unconscious before he was aware of them; his body dragged into his destination and propped up. Anders snickered.

"What are you laughing about?" Nathaniel asked.

"Just imagining him explaining that to the man who finds him sleeping in the privy with his pants up."

Nathaniel grinned as they escorted the two women out the same way they had exited earlier. This time the elves watched curiously as the two women entered the larder. Carolys went over and spoke to the older woman who nodded and hugged her then pressed something in the young woman's hand.

Hugging the wall, they managed to slip out and wait nearby where they had decided to meet up with Alistair. They didn't have long to wait as the king and the small contingent of guards exited the estate and moved down the street to where Anders and Nathaniel waited.

"Did you find anything?" Alistair asked.

"She was there," Nathaniel confirmed. "These young ladies were taken as well and this one told us she saw Neria." Alistair looked at the girl Nathaniel indicated and she nodded. "Your Majesty, I followed a trail of blood leading out here…and down there."

Nathaniel indicated the direction of the trail toward the docks.

"Maker's mercy, no," Alistair gasped. "She's not…I think I would have felt that if she was…no…" His face hardened and his jaw set in grim determination. "Sergeant Kylon, have the docks searched. I want everyone down there questioned. By the Maker, if she…. He won't get away with this." He sighed. "I'm not looking forward to having to tell Teagan."

"Alistair, wait," said Anders. He hesitated, but he obviously had something he wanted to say. "Can we speak privately?"

He, Nathaniel and Alistair moved to one side away from the others.

"Neria is a spirit healer," Anders said.

"Yes, like Wynne," Alistair nodded. He knew this.

"Spirit healers are…different from other mages," Anders said. He was watching Alistair's face nervously, and considering the king was once a templar, Nathaniel could guess the source of his trepidation.

"Just, say it, Anders. What do you want to tell me?"

"She might not be dead."

A tiny flame of hope burst in Nathaniel's chest and he saw that mirrored in Alistair's face.

"Spirit healers have an affinity for the good fade spirits. You remember Justice, Nathaniel? The spirit who helped us free those people from the Baroness? In the Blackmarsh?" Nathaniel nodded. "Not all spirits of the Fade are demons. Some are kind and good. Spirit healers form a bond with one of these spirits, usually one of compassion or some other gentle virtue."

"Are you saying Neria is an abomination?" Alistair frowned.

Anders frowned. "No! Maker's breath, no! The spirit doesn't possess us—it guides us and helps us when we need it, usually in the Fade. If her spirit hasn't exhausted itself, and we can find her soon, Neria won't be dead."

"Then we have to find her," said Nathaniel.

"I still have to tell Teagan, and we need to get these ladies home," said Alistair. "Then we find either Neria or her…Neria, and we make this bastard pay."


	5. Chapter 5

_AN: As far as I know, Arl Urien Kendalls is not described beyond a line in the game as a royalist. And a couple of lines Vaughan gives in the CE Origin story. Vaughan could have been bluffing but I tend to think he really did think he would get away with his reprehensible behavior, and his father would either cover it up or condone it. I don't know if he is talked about in the Dragon Age books or not, and if he is, my apologies if I have written Urien out of character. But considering Vaughan's young age (toolset sets it at 20), and him thinking he can actually continue treating people that way without consequences, that sadistic attitude must have its origins somewhere in Urien. _

Chapter Five

The sunlight streaming through the window warmed Neria as she lay on the cot. Having slipped in and out of consciousness so much, she had no inkling how many days it had been, or even if more than one had passed at all.

The older elven man who'd found her and brought her here had tended her wounds, bandaged her broken hands, made a hot soup for her to eat when she woke and fed her. He hadn't once asked her what had happened and Neria couldn't begin to tell him.

Her mind had been mercifully blanked of the events that had caused her injuries. How she came to be in the water she had no clue. She remembered going to the Cousland estate and picking up Muffin, visiting with Leah and the children for a bit, then heading home. That was the last clear memory she had before waking up in this small cottage. She only knew that she'd been found at the docks because Andros, the man who had found her, told her so.

Someone had beaten her within bare inches of her life and her hands were broken. They had been wrapped in linen bandages as best he could but she worried they would set wrong. If she lost the use of her hands, she would almost rather be dead. Without her hands, she had no magic and without her magic, life really wasn't worth living.

Her vision was impaired to the bare slits she could open of her eyes, which were swollen and painful to move, making the world around her hazy and indistinct, adding a sense of unreality to her situation. Her entire body seemed to be one uniform bruise and just the simple act of breathing was an agonizing trial.

And where was Muffin?

When she first woke, she had asked for Teagan, but he hadn't shown up yet.

Andros was sitting nearby working on a fishing net and from the feel of the sun it was either early morning or late afternoon.

"Andros," she said, her voice barely a whisper.

There was the sound of a chair being scraped along the wooden floor and she heard his footsteps approach her, felt his shadow block the sun.

"What is it, child?" he asked.

"Where is Teagan? Did you tell him where I am? He'll be so worried."

There was a long pause. Then, "The shems don't care about us. If he cared so much, how could he let Vaughan do this to you?"

"Vaughan?"

"Vaughan always does this. Well, I haven't seen him beat a girl up this badly in years. But it has happened before. His father used to do it, too." There was such a sad note of finality in his voice it made her throat fill with tears.

"Vaughan, I know him. So he's the one who did this."

"You don't remember?" She shook her head in answer to his query. "Maybe she forgot, too…Maker, if only that were so."

"And you're wrong about Teagan. He loves me and I love him." Then, on a pleading note, "I want to go home. I can get healing. I may be able to save my hands."

"Shhh, quiet, Liara. You _are_ home now. Just rest, I'll take care of you. No one is ever going to hurt you again."

"Neria, my name is Neria," she said, but was ignored.

Several times he had called her by this name and Neria suspected she was someone Andros had lost in the past. From his demeanor toward her, she supposed it was a daughter or someone very like his daughter to him. She could imagine how crushed she would be if someone took Gwyneth from her and harmed her child. What had it done to this man?

She heard the door open and another man entered.

"Andros, Vaughan is coming to the Alienage."

A touch of panic was in his voice. "He…he's coming for more girls? He never comes back so soon. What is he…? He's coming for Liara. We have to hide her."

His companion's voice was filled with quiet sympathy. "Andros, she's not Liara. Liara died a long time ago, remember? We _should _have taken her to Valendrian. She would be gone and we wouldn't be in this mess."

There was a sound of wood scraping. "We'll hide her here in the cellar. Please, Martelos, let's just hide her for now. We'll tell Valendrian once Vaughan is gone and it's safe again. If we're quiet, they'll think that I'm at work."

"All right, but we tell Valendrian after Vaughan is gone."

"I promise."

She felt them grab her and move her toward a hole in the floor, the motion and the hasty treatment making her torn and battered body protest. She bit her lip to keep from crying out and somehow they managed to get her into the cellar, a ten foot square room large enough for all three of them to hide.

"I can't hear what's going on. I'll go up and see," said Andros. He looked at Neria. "Don't be afraid, Liara, I won't let them take you."

He slipped out and she looked helplessly at Martelos.

"He's gone completely off—even you can see that, right? He was never quite right after Arl Urien took his daughter, but this has just…he's gone mad," Martelos whispered quietly. "It's been thirty years and it's like no time has passed for him at all."

"I'm sorry. I can't be his Liara for him."

"I know. She had hair almost the color of yours, though it was much longer and a little lighter. I used to love to brush it for her."

"You knew her, too?"

"She was…my fiancée."

"Oh. I'm sorry."

"I never liked the way Urien would watch her. She worked in the estate as a maid where I was one of the cook's assistants. The day we were to marry he came with his soldiers and took her away. I tried to fight them off, but…. We never saw her again.

"We'll wait until Vaughan leaves and then I'll tell Valendrian if Andros can't bring himself to do so. You need help, more than we can give."

After a bit, Andros joined them.

"They're looking for Amethyne. She…killed the man she'd been given to. Thank the Maker, she and Carolys got out of the city. Poor little Adri. They didn't seem to know you were here, Liara. I think it's safe enough, but we should stay here until he's gone."

She nodded. She wanted to go home. She wanted Teagan and Gwyn and she needed to see if she would ever be able to work magic again. Anders might be able to fix her hands enough for mundane tasks, but there was no guarantee her hands could be restored for the complexities of working spells.

They heard footsteps above them, but the netting Andros had been working on was stretched out onto the floor from the hook he hung it on, covering the trapdoor leading to the cellar. Still, the sounds and Vaughan's voice urging his men to find the girl who 'owed' him made Neria's heart pound in her ears.

After a cursory look that couldn't have been very involved, the men left the house and they all breathed a sigh of relief.

"He's not going to be very happy to find the girls aren't here. You don't suppose he'll take more, do you?" Neria asked. "How often does he do this?"

"Every few months. I think we went almost a whole year without having to hide our women, but that was when he was imprisoned in the dungeons of the estate. I wish Howe had killed the bastard," said Martelos. "In the Alienage, we used to celebrate weddings with banners and flowers and song. Now, we rarely celebrate anything because it just calls attention to our best and brightest. Here, beauty isn't a blessing, it's a curse."

"Someone needs to tell Alistair. He'll put a stop to this, I promise you, but someone needs to tell him. None of us outside these walls even knew."

"Shems wouldn't care if they did know," said Andros.

She had grown up with a man like Vaughan in the tower, a particularly vile templar named Garrett. Garrett enjoyed taking apprentices, sometimes before their bodies were ready for sex. That was how she first met Cullen. The young templar had put a stop to the older one when he had tried to attack Neria though she was only thirteen at the time. She had been so humiliated by the whole incident and begged Cullen not to say anything when he'd wanted to tell Greagoir what had happened. After that, Cullen appointed himself her personal protector though he hardly needed to as Garrett had lost any interest he had in her.

She remembered seeing Garrett in the tower, in the thrall of a desire demon when she had returned to get the Circle's aid against the Blight. So ended Garrett, but he could have been stopped much sooner if she had just said something.

They sat quietly, watching the trap door over them, trying to listen to any noises they may be discovered.

After a while, when it became apparent that Vaughan and his men had left, Andros and Martelos crept out of the cellar. Neria waited breathlessly and then the men rejoined her.

"Let's get you back to bed. I suppose we have to tell Valendrian now. We can't protect you here. Maybe this 'Teagan' can," Andros said, his eyes full of sorrow.

* * *

Three days had passed. Three agonizingly, long days of waiting and hoping, without word. He had gone out searching the city with the men, returning late at night. Teagan hadn't slept beyond passing out from pure exhaustion in a chair in his study last night. Even then, he'd only managed maybe three hours of sleep. Gwyneth hadn't been told yet. How was he going tell a four year old the only mother she'd ever known was dead?

Alistair's soldiers had swept the docks, learning nothing, and for both men who loved Neria, it was an exercise in torture to wait. Anders and Nathaniel had returned to the estate to rest each night with no news to report. Regina was hiding it, but Teagan could see even her cheerful disposition was dampened as days passed. Leah and Fergus had arrived and had offered the services of three of their mabari and their kennel masters to aid in the search. Edwina had come to support her husband and Teagan learned what news Alistair had wanted to tell Neria and him.

Edwina was pregnant.

Teagan was in his study, sitting on the stones before the hearth, staring at the fire, his heart heavy with worry. He fingered the golden locket with a lock of her red hair bound by a green ribbon as his thoughts kept going back to her face in the moonlight, the way she had looked the last time he saw her. There was a light rap at his door and he frowned. He was in no mood for company tonight.

"Go away," he said, his voice strained.

"Teagan, it's me, Alistair."

With a sigh, he rose and opened the door, blocking the younger man's entry. "I said, go away."

For a moment, it seemed Alistair was that little boy again and would do as he was told, but then he set his jaw and shook his head.

"No, I'm not leaving. Teagan, you can't hole up in here. I know you're tired and worried—we all are—but let us help you. We can all worry together."

"I just don't want to be around anyone right now, Alistair."

"I'm sorry, but you don't have that luxury. We all love Neria and we love you."

Teagan stepped back from the doorway and allowed Alistair entry. Returning to the fire, he stood before it, watching the coals burn. He couldn't talk about Neria, not yet.

"I'm happy for you, Alistair," he said. "I know how much you want a family and Edwina will be a wonderful mother. At least that's some good news in all this mess."

"I'm a little nervous to be honest. How do you handle being a father with Gwyn?"

"It's not easy, but I really enjoy being a father. She's the only thing that's held me together through this."

"She must be…."

"She is. She won't stop asking for Neria." He couldn't help it, his voice broke then. "I don't know what to do, how to tell her. Alistair, I spent my entire life going from woman to woman, never letting anyone inside. Neria is the only one who broke that wall. I don't—I can't live without her."

Alistair placed a comforting hand on Teagan's shoulder.

"And Vaughan, that smug bastard, will just get away with it," Teagan added, bitterly.

"No," Alistair said. "He'll be brought to justice. We need to find Neria first though. The testimony of a few elven girls won't weigh much, but…"

Teagan brightened. "…but the word of the Hero of Ferelden…."

Now he saw why Alistair hadn't arrested Vaughan yet. They needed a more creditable witness than the elves. They needed Neria.

A knock at the door and Anders entered without being invited in. Both men turned at his exclamation.

"They've found Neria! _She's alive_!"

"Where is she? Are they bringing her here?"

"She's in the Alienage. A messenger came from their elder. He says she was found at the docks and one of the fishermen has been tending her, hiding her."

"Hiding her?" Teagan frowned. "From Vaughan?"

Anders shrugged with a huge grin.

"Who cares? Let's go get her!"

Teagan nodded. "I'll go with you, just give me a moment."

"We'll wait for you," Alistair said, catching the look in Teagan's eye.

Once alone, Teagan leaned against the door, buried his face in his hands and wept tears of relief. He hadn't dared hope she would be alive after this long, and now the crushing weight he had carried around his heart was suddenly gone. Relief flooded him as the word spoken by Anders was repeated in his head. _Alive_. She was alive.

When he emerged and went downstairs to join everyone else, no one mentioned the Arl of Redcliffe's tear stained face, but everyone had huge smiles of relief on theirs.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

Valendrian met them as they entered the gates of the Alienage.

"Please, don't be angry with Andros. He…hasn't been well and he was just trying to protect her," he said.

Teagan didn't care what motives had driven the elf, he just wanted to see Neria.

"Of course," Alistair assured him. "We just want her back."

"This way," said Valendrian, indicating a small cottage not far from the gate. "I need to warn you, she was hurt very seriously. It would be wise you prepare yourselves now, you don't want to panic her by your reactions."

"I'm a healer," said Anders. "The templars sometimes wouldn't hold back on apostates they were sent to capture. I've been on the receiving end of their gauntlets and I've pretty much seen it all. I could go in first…."

"No," said Teagan, grimly determined. "I want to see her first. I need to see what was done. But please be there to attend to her immediately."

Anders nodded.

Outside a small cottage stood two elven men, one of them quite old and another about Teagan's age. The older stopped Teagan from entering.

"Before I give Liara to you, swear to me—" His voice broke. "Swear to me on Andraste's sacred ashes that you won't let Vaughan hurt her again."

The other man sighed and just nodded his head at Teagan.

"I swear, by all I hold sacred, no one is ever going to hurt her again," he promised.

That seemed to reassure the older man and he stepped aside to permit Teagan entry. Swallowing and steeling himself for what lay within, Teagan opened the door and stepped inside.

Within the tiny cottage he saw a small candle on a bedside table and a cot. On the cot, dressed in clean, if rough, garments was Neria. The only way she was recognizable was her shoulder length red hair spread in disarray on the pillow. Teagan swallowed as her head turned toward the sound of him entering the room and he realized she was aware he was there, but he couldn't see her eyes under all the damage. Her face was swollen and black with bruises on her eyes and cheeks. Her lips were split and swollen, and her nose had been broken. There were long, ugly, dark marks on her throat in the shape of fingers. Both hands were bandaged in linen cloth. He imagined the rest of her must look pretty much the same.

He moved closer to her and knelt next to the bed.

"Neria, I'm so sorry. I swear I'll never let him near you again."

Tenderly, afraid of hurting her, he brushed his fingers over her forehead and she began to sob.

"I'm so glad you're here," she said. "Everything hurts. Please take me home, Teagan."

"Right away, love. Anders, come here, please."

Anders moved in to kneel beside her, his compassionate eyes filled with the pain of seeing the state she was in. His eyes showed his concern, but his features remained friendly and warm. He smiled and ran his hands over her, a few inches from her body, a blue glow coming from them as he made his initial assessment and cast a spell to ease her pain.

"Hey, Freckles, now why'd you want to go and have an adventure without that ole stick in the mud, Nate and me, eh? So what happened to you, Neria? Are you walking into walls again?"

"I'm sorry, Anders. I really don't know what happened."

Anders frowned, and quickly hid it, but not before Teagan noted the concern. His hand came up to her head and he laid his palm there. Then, smiling again, he nodded.

"Well, next time bring us along. Someone has to watch your back. Country living is making you fat and lazy."

"Is not."

As he finished his evaluation, his voice got very serious. He stood over her, both hands palms down, fingers spread as wide as he could. "I'm sorry, Neria, this is going to hurt a little."

She nodded, closing her eyes. "It's all right, it's good pain. It reminds me I'm alive and this will be over soon."

"I'm going to put you to sleep for the healing, but your wounds are pretty extensive. You'll probably feel it anyway."

Teagan saw her nod slightly and her face eased as Anders began to cast. Blue radiance flowed from his fingers to her body, healing bruises, cuts and broken bones. She moaned a bit and he knew the pain must be pretty intense if she could feel it when she was unconscious.

Then Anders slumped to the floor, sweat beading his forehead. Hands shaking, he pulled a vial of glowing blue liquid from his pouch and drank half its contents.

"Maker's breath," he gasped. "At least four broken ribs, multiple contusions, a broken nose and a concussion. She had internal bleeding, but her spir…that healed on its own. And, Andraste's mercy, he broke her hands! She's so tiny…but she must have struggled when he did that, I can sense the bruises on her arms and back where she was held down. He didn't have to take that from her on top of everything else! I…I'll do what I can."

"Her hands?" Alistair's voice came from the doorway. "He didn't want her casting."

The more he heard, the angrier Teagan got.

Resolutely, Anders stood and began casting again.

After a time, most of the bruises were faded if not completely gone, and the small cuts were closed.

"I've done what I can for now. I want to check her hands tomorrow after she's had a chance to rest," he said. "We'll need a litter to get her back to the estate. And he… I healed what he did when he…forced…her, but I can't heal the mental scars from that. She's going to need you, Teagan. You and Gwyneth mean the world to Neria. I don't doubt it was that which kept her alive."

Teagan nodded.

By the time a litter was brought and she was moved to it, Neria was conscious again. As they left the cottage, she saw Andros watching her with such a wretched expression. Teagan watched as Neria beckoned him over.

"Wait," she said. "Andros, please come here."

He shuffled over looking very lost and unhappy. She put out her arms and he hugged her gingerly, as if afraid of hurting her. Pressing her cheek to his, she hugged him back. He allowed her to hold him for a moment then he broke contact.

"Thank you," she said. "If it weren't for you, I'd be dead. I'm sorry I can't be your Liara. I'm sorry, but I'm very grateful for what you did and for letting me go. I think she'd be very proud of you."

"Please, get better…Neria," he said. "Just…go."

Then, he went back into his cottage.

The other man stepped up. "My lord, my father-in-law isn't well. I understand there was a reward for finding her? I wouldn't normally dream of asking, but I think it would be best to get him from Denerim, maybe out in the countryside. And I'll need coin for that."

"Indeed. I understand he's a fisherman?" At his nod, Teagan continued. "Then he can come to Redcliffe, if you so choose and continue his livelihood there. These coins should cover his expenses and then some for the move or if you decide to go anywhere else. You have my heartfelt gratitude."

"Thank you, Martelos," said Neria. "Take care of him. He isn't well."

"I always will. For her sake. Just get better, Neria," said Martelos.

* * *

Twilight streaked the sky in a brilliant panorama of deep purple and blues with a touch of red and orange surrounding the setting sun as Neria was brought back home. The young woman was relieved to see the arl's estate at last and her first thoughts went to her child. Gwyneth was overjoyed to see her mother return and once Neria was placed in bed, her little girl climbed up and laid her head on Neria's bosom.

"Mama, what happened?" she asked, her little fingers reaching up to touch one of the faded bruises.

"I fell down, Gwyn. And a nice man found me and helped me."

"Are you all better now?"

"I will be soon, thanks to Uncle Anders."

She motioned to Teagan and he moved over to pluck Gwyneth from her side. "We should let Mama get some rest, Gwyn. She'll feel more like talking tomorrow, I promise."

"I'll be back to check on you tomorrow, Neria," said Alistair placing a kiss on her forehead. "Get some rest, king's orders."

Nathaniel motioned to Teagan, Alistair and Anders. With a kiss to Gwyneth's cheek, Teagan joined them as the nanny took her to the nursery to settle her down for the night. The four men went to Teagan's study though he left the door adjoining the two rooms open so he could watch Neria.

"Anders spoke to her a bit before we got her back here and he tells me she has no memory of what happened," said Nathaniel quietly.

"Mercifully no, she doesn't appear to," said Teagan.

Nathaniel frowned. "I was afraid of that."

"What do you mean?" Teagan asked. "I would count it a blessing."

"On the one hand, I suppose it is," said Anders. "She's been through a lot and survived, but the concussion…I've seen this happen with people with severe damage. Their mind or bodies can't handle it and they just blank it out—it just doesn't exist for them."

"On the other hand," Nathaniel continued. "If she can't remember what was done, she can't give testimony against him at the Landsmeet. One of the elven girls got out of the city, and the other is hiding and waiting at the Couslands to offer testimony. But we need more than her word. None of the nobles will listen to an elf no matter how many we call forth from the Alienage."

"Oh, Maker, I'll kill the bastard myself if he gets away with this," Teagan growled.

"He won't," Nathaniel assured him. "I have a plan. I want that bastard to feel something of what he visited on the women in the Alienage all this time. I want him to know the agony he inflicted on Neria. I want him to think he's gotten off without punishment. Then, when he's complacent, I want to spring the trap in such a way he won't be able to slip out of it."

Anders frowned, worriedly. "You really do have dark places in you, don't you?"

Nathaniel smiled and for the first time, Teagan saw Rendon Howe in his face.

A bit later they emerged from the study, a new determination on their faces. Nathaniel and Regina went home to their estate as did Alistair and Edwina to the palace. Anders decided to stay at Teagan's estate for the next few days to watch over Neria and offer additional healing as needed. Before heading off to bed, he checked her breathing, temperature and pulse, finding them satisfactory, and promised to be up early to check on her again.

Teagan sat next to her and placed his hand on her hip. She roused a bit at his touch.

"Is there anything I can do, love? Please, tell me what to do to help?" he asked.

"Hold me, Teagan? I always feel so safe in your arms."

He nodded, pulled off his boots and slipped in beside her, wrapping her in the protection of his arms. Laying his cheek against her hair, he sighed. As much as she needed this, so too had he needed to hold her.

"I love you, Neria," he whispered.

"I love you, too, Teagan."

"Get some rest, I'll be right here."

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and slipped into slumber. It was a long time before Teagan relaxed enough to follow her.


	7. Chapter 7

_AN: I'd like to take a moment to thank all who have read this narrative and special thanks to my reviewers. I was a bit nervous about the subject of this story and your feedback has been invaluable to me! More to come!_

* * *

Chapter Seven

_Blackness all around her—she was alone. She could hear Muffin yelp somewhere beyond the dark, but she couldn't see him. He was hurt, she had to heal him. Then she felt hands on her, the faces of her assailants shadowed and unseen, holding her down, pain shooting up her arms as first one hand then the other was smashed, the delicate bones breaking with a nauseating crunch._

_She thought she had gotten away from him, but she found herself beneath Vaughan again. Perhaps she had only dreamed that he killed her and she was still trapped in the estate. _

_Twisted with sadistic delight, his face loomed over her. Her body screamed its torment as he took his pleasure from her pain, drawing it in and feasting on it like a twisted Fade demon. Her arms throbbed as pain raced up the nerves till every muscle in them felt as if they were on fire._

_She felt his climax within her again, and heard his voice mocking her._

"_How does it feel to get a real man between your legs?"_

* * *

With a gasp, she woke and looked around in confusion. She was in her room, Teagan lying next to her, holding her in his arms. Shuddering, she turned toward him, her body still aching, and tried to recall what she had been dreaming of. It was important she was sure, but as quickly as the images came upon her, they flittered out of her memory.

As happy as she was to be home, she felt something was missing. She looked up at Teagan's peaceful face and touched his cheek. Numbed, her fingers could barely feel him. _Nerve damage_,she thought. _I won't know until the swelling goes down if it's going to be permanent or only temporary._

A glimpse of honey colored fur flashed through her mind's eye.

"Muffin…" she gasped. That's what was missing. Where was her mabari?

Rolling over, she looked around the room, but didn't see him. Muffin always slept in her room, especially now since he needed the warmth of the fire at night. She whistled softly to call him, thinking he may be at the foot of the bed, but there was no answer. Dread seized her heart. He'd been with her that morning. Where was he? Was he with the kennel master being tended? He wouldn't have abandoned her, not without fighting for her, despite being past his prime.

Teagan was still sleeping peacefully and she loathed waking him. He obviously hadn't gotten much rest the past few days, but she had to know. Gently, she shook him awake.

"Teagan, where's Muffin?" she asked, aloud.

Opening his eyes, he looked at her, frowning.

Licking suddenly dry lips, she looked at her lover and saw answers she didn't want in his blue eyes. Her voice shook.

"Teagan, where_ is_ Muffin?" she reiterated.

The frown on his face and sorrow in his eyes spoke more to her than his words.

"I'm sorry, Neria. He managed to make it back here, but…"

The wail torn from her throat made the recently healed wounds there ache again, but she couldn't help giving voice to her loss.

"No! Oh, Maker! No!" she sobbed. Teagan pulled her close to him and held her as she cried against his chest. "He…was trying…to protect me, wasn't he?"

The reply was hesitant. She knew the answer, anyway. "We believe so, yes."

"Poor Muffin…I killed him."

"No, Neria, you didn't do any such thing. Vaughan's men did that. Muffin did what any proud mabari would do. He loved you, Neria, loved you so much he protected you, gladly and wholeheartedly. His last act was to lead us to where you'd been attacked.

"Don't cry, love, please don't cry. We'll make them pay."

"I just want him back. I just want to go back and make it all not have happened."

"I know," Teagan's voice was soothing.

She heard the call bell as Teagan reached up and pulled it, summoning not the maid, but Anders. The spirit healer entered and moved to her side, placing one warm palm to her forehead and the other on her hip, he looked at her with concern.

"Hey, Freckles, where does it hurt?"

She sniffled, her reply muffled, buried as it was in Teagan's tunic. "Muffin…"

The whisper of his spell brought a protest to her lips that died out unvoiced as she slipped into unconsciousness.

* * *

"I won't be able to keep doing this, Teagan," Anders frowned. "Sooner or later she's going to have to face what's happened in order to heal."

"Just for now," Teagan insisted. "She needs rest more than anything."

Teagan didn't want to admit he also couldn't bear the sight of pain in the eyes of the woman he loved.

"Well, I may as well examine her hands while she's unconscious," Anders said.

Sitting on the bed beside her, he picked up one small hand, manipulating the fingers and thumb, checking the color and the muscle tone. He did the same with the other. Then when he was done, set them both down on the counterpane.

The faint smile on his face encouraged Teagan.

"It looks promising. We'll know more in a few days when the swelling subsides. But it looks promising."

"She'll get her magic back?" Teagan asked.

"I don't want to say for certain. And she may never get back the skill she once had, but it looks good. Let's just say I'm 'cautiously optimistic'."

"How long will she be asleep?"

"A while. Let's let her get some rest."

Anders took Teagan's arm and steered him toward the door. It wasn't so much Anders commanding as the healer was just supremely confident in his niche. He was taking charge of the situation because someone had to take care of both Teagan and Neria if they were to both heal from this. On some level Teagan knew this, though he resented being separated from Neria when she needed him.

"How much sleep did you get last night?" Anders asked him.

"Me? I'm not your patient," Teagan shook his head, looking back at Neria over his shoulder.

Anders sounded skeptical. "Uh huh, that's what I thought."

Grabbing a servant in the hall, he posted her at the door. "You stay here. If she wakes up or needs anything, you call me," he said. Teagan frowned. "And you come with me, Arl Teagan. When was the last time you got something to eat?"

Teagan shook his head, unable to recall.

Anders cocked a brow at the older man and shook his head. "I thought so. Neria needs you to be strong for her, and you can't do that if you aren't taking care of yourself. So, my first order is get something to eat. Second is get some rest. Preferably in a separate room so you will _actually rest_ and not just lay there and pretend to out of some misguided notion you have to be awake for her."

"How did you…?"

"I know everything," he replied with a smug grin.

* * *

Nathaniel arrived at the estate a couple of hours later with Regina, and shortly after that Alistair and the Couslands arrived. Teagan had taken a short nap, but insisted he be wakened for their arrival and now everyone was gathered in the study.

Leah balked at the plan from the start.

"No, Nathaniel. I _will not_ have that man in my house, within a hundred yards of my children!"

"It has to be you or Anora. We need to control the situation and he has to make a confession in front of the gathered nobles. It has to be in a setting he's comfortable in, so it can't be at our estate or the palace. We have to catch him off guard. I'd prefer Anora's social because you're known to be friends with Neria, but you are having yours sooner."

"Personally, I like it," said Michael.

"You would, husband," Anora frowned. "What if we switch dates? I can give my party sooner."

"There can't be any deviation. I'm sorry—it has to be you and Fergus, Leah."

Leah frowned. "I just—I don't like the idea of that man in my home, near my family. But I like the idea of him wandering around on the loose even less. All right, just tell me what I have to do."

"Nothing, just have your party, go about the day as usual. Leave everything else up to the rest of us. I just needed your go ahead on the setting. Anders, will Neria be able to get out and about by then?"

"She can get out and about now if she wants," he said. "Most of the physical damage is healed. I'm just worried about her mental state."

"Teagan, can you get her there?"

"I don't like using her as bait, Nathaniel," he frowned.

"She's not bait. She's the trap."

"Semantics. I still don't like it, but…we don't have much choice. I'll have her there."

"Good. Michael, you're the back up plan. If he tries to get away, you stop him, whatever it takes," Nathaniel said.

Michael grinned, mischief alight in his eyes. "Have I already said that I _like_ this plan?"


	8. Chapter 8

8

_AN: Getting into the head of a racist psychopath…what fun! This chapter, dark times ensue, and Vaughan begins to pay for what he has done. _

* * *

Chapter Eight

Vaughan was sitting in his study in a huge, overstuffed chair, drinking a brandy. It had been a week since he'd taken Neria and it would seem that he was going to remain unpunished. Shifting a bit, he assumed a more comfortable position as the chambermaid servicing him bounced on his lap, her pale back to him. He was half bored and contemplated pushing her off, but then shrugged and let her continue. Maybe he could work up some enthusiasm for the ride in his head.

Ever since he had first seen the Grey Warden almost seven years ago he'd wanted her. She'd been untouchable, forbidden, and admittedly that was the majority of her charm. As the Hero of Ferelden, kidnapping her and breaking her, bending her to his will at last, had been half the fun of possessing her. The way she had just wasted herself on that dried up old man…. Inexplicable!

For just a moment he _had_ possessed her, too. He had intended to ride those creamy white thighs till his member was spent and he had her out of his system finally. His erection throbbed with the memory and he smiled. Then he frowned. He had barely gotten started with her and then it was over all too fast.

Breaking her hands had been regrettable. He had wanted those free to scratch his back like the alley cat she was, but he couldn't allow her to use them against him. She had proven she was not only capable, but perfectly willing, to use them to defend herself.

While he didn't care for being frozen on the spot, he preferred it when they resisted. He remembered his first ride, a bitch his father had in the dungeon. She had fought and kicked and scratched and his father had taught him that the sex was secondary. The real pleasure came from that moment you broke them, made them yours. And it was always sweetest from those who refused to give in right away, who defied him.

And she had fought him. Maker, that was unbelievably pleasurable! It was always the best in those moments before the first time he took them. Even the weakest willed bitches fought at first. They always fought and kicked and cried until he had them beneath him and then the fight just faded when they realized he had won.

Even that bitch who'd bottled him years ago hadn't kept up the fire after he had thrust into her. He'd had such hopes, but even she ended up crying and begging to go home just like all the rest. The bride though…. Damn. A pity she'd fought so hard that he'd inadvertently broken her neck. She would have been incredible, and he was sure that she would've taken a long time before she truly broke. The Grey Warden had the same fire—he could see the hate in her eyes even when she had at last lain still beneath him.

And then, when he wanted to savor the moment, she spat in his face. He'd lost it then. Once he started beating her, he couldn't stop himself. In the end, she had still won. She was forever out of his reach now.

That hadn't sat well with him. But looking into Alistair's face and knowing he had just had the king's former whore under him, that he'd just snuffed out her fragile little life, had been satisfying. The fool swallowed his lies, had left empty handed and he had gotten away with it all!

He looked down at the elven slut riding him now. She was like most of her race, slight of frame with those lovely, delicate ears poking out of her mass of hair. Her face was inconsequential. He couldn't even tell what she looked like. All he ever saw anymore was Neria's visage. The hair was a shade darker, but it was a deep, rich red like hers. Hooding his eyes he could almost imagine it was her cunt surrounding his cock, her slight weight on his thighs.

He gripped the chambermaid's hips and thrust into her, grinding with guttural moans as the thought of taking the Grey Warden began to push him over the edge. With a cry he felt his seed expelled from him and shoot deep inside the woman riding him. A few strokes to ease the last of his fluids from him and he was done.

She moaned and gasped, continuing to ride him, but he was spent, his member already softening and he shoved her off him. He lost all interest in her once he'd achieved his satisfaction.

"Enough, whore. Go…clean the privy or whatever it is you do here," he growled, slapping her bottom.

"My lord…" she pleaded.

"Be gone, I'm finished with you."

He loved leaving them unsatisfied, especially when his lover was willing, like the young slut who'd just been riding him. It would keep her wet and hot for him until he was done with her for the day. Perhaps he would find her later and take her from behind again. Her skin wasn't the right color, but it was close enough. She was pale, but Neria's skin, what he had seen of it on the occasions Teagan had brought her to a salon, had been almost luminous. He had wanted to see her naked and broken under the moonlight, but he never would now. But then again, neither would anyone else. Whatever had happened, he was the last one to have ever had her.

Tonight the Couslands were giving their party and he was looking forward to attending. He hoped Arl Teagan would be there as well, though the man would be grieving for his leman. It would be nice to smile in Teagan's face, act the gentleman, knowing he'd been the one to take what he held dear.

He summoned maids to prepare a bath. This was going to be the best party ever.

* * *

Regina came over that afternoon to prepare Neria for Leah's party. The elven woman wasn't in a mood to celebrate, but Regina wouldn't take no for an answer. Neria suspected that Teagan and her friends were conspiring to get her out and about, and that was one of the reasons she'd volunteered to prepare Neria. Thus, she found herself sitting at the vanity while Regina brushed her hair. Although she was able to hold the brush, Neria still didn't have the fine control it took to actually run it through her hair.

"Your hair is so pretty, Neria. I wish you would let me put it up for you, just a little updo here with a couple of curls to brush your cheeks. It would look so lovely."

Regina's own hair had been gathered in the back in loose, long, dark brown ringlets through which delicate, tiny wildflowers and dark green silk ribbons intertwined. Neria had admired it, but she lacked the volume to wear her hair like that, it being finer, shorter and less cooperative.

Shaking her head, Neria declined, "Teagan likes it like this, loose."

Regina smiled, and pulled a handful of her hair into a loose bun, gently tugging some strands around her face to show her what she was talking about. "Yes, but what do men know of what they like? Have you ever tried something different? He might like this too," she addressed Neria's image in the mirror.

"That's cute…. Morrigan used to sort of wear her hair like that."

Regina beamed. "So you'll let me fix it for you?"

Caught up in the older woman's enthusiasm and warmth, Neria smiled. "All right."

Once dressed, they emerged and everyone gushed over how pretty she was. Neria felt the only truly sincere compliments came from Teagan and Gwyneth. Nathaniel and Anders were obviously just trying to make her feel better, but their attempt was appreciated.

Teagan took her hand and bowed over it, making her feel very ladylike and smiled up at her, his eyes twinkling with something akin to the expression of old, a cross between gentleman and rogue. With a sigh, she realized she had missed that look the past few days and smiled at him in return.

"My ladies, your carriage awaits," said Nathaniel, opening the front door.

Regina giggled and took Nathaniel's hand to help her into the waiting carriage. Neria looked back at Anders.

"You aren't coming?" Neria asked. "You're actually going to let me out of your sight for the evening?"

Anders shrugged with a smile. Gwyneth was perched on his shoulders so she could see the carriage depart from the higher vantage. "Me? Hang out with all those noble sticks in the mud? Not a chance. I'll be right here if you need me. Go have fun, Freckles."

"Bye, Mama, have fun!"

The ride through the streets of Denerim was pleasant—Regina holding up the bulk of the conversation ensuring the less verbal companions didn't have to. Neria leaned back and put her head on Teagan's shoulder and felt his arm go around her waist. To her surprise, she was actually looking forward to getting out tonight.

* * *

Nathaniel was actually a little nervous. The situation had to be staged just right. He had no doubts Leah would pull off her end. It was up to her to play hostess and put Vaughan at ease. He wanted that bastard to be completely secure before he got the rug jerked out from under him.

Looking at Neria in the seat across from him, he frowned. She was so tiny, and right now she was very, very fragile. He worried for her peace of mind, but this was the only way she would be able to heal—to see Vaughan punished for his crimes. And punished he would be, if Nathaniel had his way.

Ever since the moment she'd disappeared, he had felt wretched, as if somehow it was his fault she had been taken. He'd promised to always have her back and he failed her. Well, by the Maker, tonight would be different.

He looked at his beautiful wife and smiled, some of the nervousness easing. She was more precious than any amount of gold, and he found himself imagining what it would have been like if she had been the one Vaughan had abused. Teagan must have endured the torments of the Black City in the days it had taken to find his woman.

As the carriage pulled up to the Cousland estate, Nathaniel's eyes met Teagan's and a look passed between them. Neria had no idea of what they truly planned tonight, and he knew Teagan hated this deception but it was necessary. Nor did Nathaniel harbor any delusions that she would be pleased by what they had planned and having it kept from her, but he was a practical man. This was the only way they could surprise Vaughan enough to slip the noose around his neck and see justice done. He doubted they would have gotten Neria here if she had known what they intended. Deciding he would gladly pay the consequences of her wrath later, he smiled slightly at his former commander and nodded his head.

Nathaniel and Regina exited the conveyance first, then Teagan helped Neria. Tucking her hand into his he patted it reassuringly. That she was trembling with nervousness was apparent.

"It will be all right, love," he promised. "I'll be right with you the entire time."

"We won't let you out of our sight, Neria," Regina reassured her.

"And I've got your back, Commander," said Nathaniel with a wink.

He was trying to be reassuring, but from the look in her eyes he wasn't entirely sure she was up for this.

* * *

Neria couldn't control her trembling. She worried that Vaughan might be here and about the thought of seeing him terrified her. Though she had no memory of what he'd done, she had knowledge of it, and by the Maker, she wouldn't give _anyone_ the satisfaction of seeing fear in her eyes. She stuck her chin out proudly, and stood as straight as she could. She may not have her magic, but she had Teagan and Nathaniel with her, and she trusted Fergus and Leah to not allow any harm to come to her in their home.

Inside they stood waiting in the line to be announced. While Teagan pulled out a card with their names on it, Neria scanned the room. She stiffened and her hand tightened on Teagan's arm, her eyes hooding, a trick she learned at a young age to conceal them from revealing too much. He covered her hand with his own and rubbed the back with his thumb.

Alistair was here, with Edwina and several of the palace guard, Kylon included. She also saw Michael standing near the balcony doors, the only other exit from the room, with Anora, talking to Arl Bryland. Bann Alfstanna was near the front door, chatting amiably with Bryland's daughter, Habren. The girl had changed quite a bit since her father had sent her away to that cloister in the middle of nowhere three years ago.

Vaughan was talking to Leah and Fergus and hadn't noticed her yet. Sighard and Enilda stood near their daughter, offering her silent support. Obviously the teyrna didn't want to be within spitting distance of Vaughan, but she was bearing with it. He also looked as if he had had a few too many already, though the night was still young.

Teagan stepped up and seemed to steel himself, his arm tightening on her as if to hold her closer to him, and passed the card to the manservant announcing guests.

"Teagan Guerrin, Arl of Redcliffe and Neria Surana, Hero of Ferelden."

Neria watched as Vaughan stiffened and turned around, staring aghast at her as she entered the room on Teagan's arm. The look of shock and surprise on his face was actually amusing until his harsh voice exploded in the room over the sounds of the gathered nobles.

"_You! Maker's breath what does it take to kill you, you elven whore? I throttled you myself, why aren't you dead?"_

The room went completely silent as the gathered nobles all stared, shocked. Neria's eyes widened. An image of Vaughan leaning over her, his hands around her throat made her shiver and huddle closer to Teagan.

Realizing what he'd said, he bolted for the side doors, running right into Michael's gauntleted fist.

"Respect all equally," Michael intoned an oft repeated lesson to Vaughan's prone body.

"Where did you get that?" Anora asked, pointing at the metal glove on her husband's hand.

"Oh, this old thing?" he chuckled. "I just found it lying around on a dusty old suit of armor in the hall." Vaughan sat up, holding his head, and Michael smacked him on top of it again, knocking him back out. He grinned at his wife. "Well, you didn't want me to bruise my knuckles on this idiot, did you, buttercup?"

"Sergeant Kylon, this man has confessed to his crimes of his own accord. Take this animal away to the tower," Alistair said. "I want you to personally guard him until his execution."

That night, Neria felt for the first time like she was accepted. Sympathy, combined with the reminder of her formal title, had made the nobles once more aware of her in a positive light. Though she knew it wouldn't last, for tonight she enjoyed their kindness, even accepting a few invitations to dinners later in the month.

Teagan remained at her side, looking immensely relieved.

* * *

Nathaniel's smile was grim. From the open door leading to the cells in the palace dungeons he could hear Vaughan yelling indignantly. Anders stood nearby, his face inscrutable.

Kylon stood nearby at the door watching them.

"Nice night," said Nathaniel.

"Indeed," Kylon responded. "I'm sure King Alistair wouldn't mind if I got a little fresh air? The atmosphere in here is pretty thick."

"Of course, we'll see nothing untoward happens to the prisoner," said Nathaniel. "Take your time."

Kylon stepped outside as Nathaniel entered the cell block, followed by Anders.

Against a back wall in one of the cells was Vaughan.

"You pigs! I'll have you flayed for this! I'm the Arl of Denerim!"

"Hmm, Anders, flaying…. That has potential."

"Too fast if you ask me," said Anders.

"Indeed, but not if you heal him."

Vaughan's eyes widened, fear in them at last. "_You wouldn't dare_! I'm the Arl of Denerim! Guard!"

"Scream all you want, I think I'd actually prefer it. Anders tells me her throat was pretty raw from both screaming and when you strangled her. No one will care and no one will come. And you're no longer the Arl of Denerim. King Alistair has stripped you of your title, Vaughan Kendalls."

"What are you going to do?" Vaughan asked, his voice shaking.

"Me? I'm going to give you a lesson in respect, Kendalls," said Nathaniel. "I want you to suffer as she did. I want you to feel her terror and her pain, and then when I'm done, I want you to die, slowly and painfully."

Vaughan scoffed. "You can't torture me to death. Not even King Alistair can order that."

"I never said I was going to torture you to death. Did I say anything like that, Anders?"

Anders shrugged. "Not what I heard."

Nathaniel's voice dripped venom, quiet and deadly. "Do you know what it feels like to be throttled, Vaughan? First the pain in your throat as your windpipe is crushed alerts you, and then your lungs start to burn. And though you kick and struggle you can't stop it. Your chest muscles lock up as you try to draw in air that isn't coming, that last breath seems hours ago, though you know it's only been minutes. Then, your head throbs and your vision starts to gray. It's not a gentle death by any stretch of the imagination."

Vaughan grabbed his throat with one hand.

"No, I'm not going to choke you, though you deserve it. I just wanted you to ponder that image while you wait to be led to the scaffold. I'm going to attend to the rope personally. If it's too long, I don't want your head being ripped off your shoulders or snapping your neck or anything violently quick like that. Let's go, Anders."

Nathaniel turned and Vaughan ran to the bars.

"You fools, I'll make you all pay for this!" He began to laugh. "All this for one stupid, elven whore? That slut wanted it, she begged for it! She cried and fought and kicked, but it was just an act. They all do it!"

With a growl, Nathaniel turned, grabbed Vaughan by the scruff of his neck before he could pull back and slammed his face into the bars. With some satisfaction he saw the split over Vaughan's eye and the red gleam of blood that would turn into a nice dark bruise over the next few minutes. The little prick had pushed him too far. Nathaniel wanted nothing more than to kill him at this moment, but that would have been far too quick. He needed time to calm down before the real lessons could begin.

"Not quite the same, but it will have to do," said Nathaniel. "Anders, let's give him a few hours to contemplate the lesson. I need a drink before I continue his education. I wonder if Sergeant Kylon would like a couple of ales?"

"Sounds good to me."


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

In the month since Vaughan's arrest, Neria had thought she would feel better, but as the days ticked by she became progressively more depressed. Vaughan still hadn't been punished and she wondered at the delay. She would have asked Teagan, but she knew he was worried enough about her and didn't want to cause him further worry. She tried to ignore that tiny voice in her head that told her he may never be punished for what he did.

Her dreams, never good at the best of times, had taken a decidedly ominous air with Vaughan central to them. Usually they were just vague half remembered images and snippets of sound, sensations, forgotten when the sun shone brightly through her window. Though she was still left with a sense of unease, she had no strong recollections of them. Not wanting to give him that much power over her, Neria took to sleeping less and only going to bed when she was exhausted.

This morning had been different. Teagan had already risen earlier and was going about the business of the estate. Dragging her feet to the window seat, she laid her chin on her arms and focused on the candle in the sill in front of her.

Her hands had regained some of their control. Fine tasks still eluded her, but she could perform her own ablutions now, no longer requiring Teagan or Brynna to help her bathe or dress or brush her hair. Her magic was slowly coming back to her. She was able to do the basic stuff she had learned as a young apprentice, the most vulgar of magic. This was her final test.

She had to do this, she vowed. She wasn't going to let him take this from her, too!

She stood and pointed her hand toward the little wax candle. "Just a small flame," she whispered to herself. Trying to focus her magic, using only two fingers as she had been taught, she attempted to light the candle. The magic begin to pulse at the base of her skull and flowed down her arms, bursting from her fingers.

Belatedly, she appreciated the fact that the estate was mostly made of stone…and that ice spells were so much easier to manage than fireballs.

Disgusted with herself, she slumped in the scorched window seat, her chin resting on her arms.

* * *

Watching her from the doorway, Teagan smiled softly at the woman he loved. She was really making an effort to rise above the situation and he had to admire her determination.

Vaughan would be tried in two days. It had taken almost all this time to get up enough witnesses against the man. Many of the elves expected him to be released and were afraid to stick out their necks. Shianni was willing, as was Amethyne. And as they came forward, so did others. Vaughan's own outburst condemned him, but there had to be a trial.

In that time, Teagan knew Anders and Nathaniel were continuing Vaughan's 'education.' As far as he was concerned, after the number of years that man spent torturing and terrorizing innocents, a lifetime of punishment wouldn't be enough to repay his deeds. Just for what he'd done to Neria, Teagan would have joined them, but they wouldn't let him. Anders told him he had to see to Neria, and he had to admit he wouldn't have been able to stop himself from killing Vaughan. More than anything he wanted that bastard to pay for what he'd done. Publically and finally.

Teagan was glad to see Neria was recovering well physically. She had regained some of the use in her hands and something of her old spirit had begun to return. But as the day for the trial was drawing near, she got more and more moody and he began to worry for her again.

She seemed to be habitually plagued with nightmares. This was nothing new. Usually he could get her to talk to him, but she was closing up and spending more time holed up in their room alone. He decided to try once more to reach her this morning. Opening their door, he'd stopped to look at her sitting perched in the window seat. On the sill in front of her was a candle—or what looked like a candle. Mostly it was a melted puddle of wax. The walls were scorched and the seat cushions were charred. And how did everything by the window get wet? It hadn't rained in two days.

He knew she'd been testing her magic and she had been disappointed with her recovery. Magic or no magic mattered little to him, he was just glad she was alive and with him. He wanted her happy, though, and he was always willing to talk to her, but she wasn't opening herself up to him.

He stepped in and went behind her to take her in his arms. Shifting, almost as if it were a natural movement, she pulled away from him. Frowning, he regarded her more closely. He thought he had observed every mood she had, but this was a new one.

When he put a hand out to her, she flinched away. It hung there for a moment then he put it down on his knee, disappointed he couldn't make the motion more natural.

"Neria?" he queried.

"It wasn't just a bad dream. I remember," she said quietly, by way of explanation.

Swallowing nervously, he asked, "Remember what?" She closed her eyes and now he noticed the tears glistening on her lashes and cheeks. "Oh, Neria, I'm so sorry, love. I…is there anything I can do to make it better?"

Placing her forehead on her arms she shook her head. Her voice was quiet and calm, not at all what he was expecting. "It's over and I survived. I…am not back to what I was before, but maybe I will be soon. I want that bastard to pay, Teagan. I've never hated anyone so much in my life before. And I…I can't use my magic, I don't have enough control yet. I may never have enough to trust it. It's like starting all over again. He took everything away from me!"

Teagan frowned. Perhaps she'd finally remembered because she could accept it. He was just glad that she might be able to go back to normal soon. Maybe once she testified against Vaughan.

He reached out to her, but she shook her head.

"Don't," she begged. "I'm not finished."

He inclined a brow at her and she sighed. "I'm late."

It actually took him a few moments for it to sink in what she meant. Then his eyes widened.

"Are you sure? Things have been so unsettled and that always throws you off."

"Not to this degree. Human males don't…mesh well with elves unless the man is…gentle. Maybe he did something to damage me…there. Maybe something Anders might have missed in an initial assessment. Can you bring Anders?"

Rising from the seat, he was surprised when she grabbed his hand and threw her arms around his waist to hug him tightly.

"I love you, Teagan," she whispered.

He hugged her gently, placing his chin on the top of her head, smoothing her hair.

"I love you, too, Neria. It'll be all right, love."

* * *

Teagan found Anders downstairs amusing Gwyneth by dragging a string in front of his cat, Ser Pounce. Gwyneth looked up and smiled when she saw Teagan enter the room.

"Papa! Come see what Ser Pou...Ser…kitty can do!"

Teagan plucked her up and poked her tummy sending her into a fit of giggles. Keeping a smile on his face and his voice calm so as not to alarm his niece, he passed her to her nanny.

"I need to talk some grown up stuff with Anders. Maybe he'll let you play with Ser Pounce-a-Lot while we do?"

"Oh! Uncle Anders, please! May I?" she begged. "I'll be good."

Anders grinned his easy smile and passed the string to her, watching his cat bat at it with his paws, trying to catch it.

"Of course, poppet. Just make sure he catches it once in a while and he won't get bored."

Anders followed Teagan out of the room and the older man led him up the stairs.

"She's remembered, or at least, that's what she told me. She seems remarkably calm about this, Anders."

"That's not good. She may have remembered, but it may not be real to her yet. Then again, I guess we should be grateful for small blessings. She'll be able to testify against him now. I wouldn't worry too much if she continues to improve, though she might have a stronger reaction later when the knowledge sinks in. Just a warning."

"There's something else." He really didn't want to go into this with the man, but he had to. "She's…well…."

They reached the room and Teagan saw her sitting where he had left her. Anders looked questioningly at him and he waved the mage inside.

"Neria, what's up?" he asked, coming to sit by her.

"I can't…I don't have fine control back yet."

"I told you that will take some time. It's too soon."

"No, I know that…" she said, placing her fingers to her forehead.

He looked at the scorched wall and seat and raised a brow at her. "Do you, now?"

"Smart ass," she grinned. Then she got serious again. "That's not why I asked you to come. I'm late."

"For what?"

She smacked his arm. "_For tea_! Maker's breath, you idiot, _I'm late_!"

"Late…oh…ohhh…._Oh_! All right, Neria just lie down here and let me check you." She moved to the bed and laid down, Teagan standing next to her, Anders hovering over her, continuing to ask questions, his hands glowing with blue radiance and focused on her abdomen. "Any breast tenderness, dizziness, nausea, increased appe…okay forget that one."

To all these she shook her head.

"Might be too soon," he said. "But there are other reasons a woman…."

Teagan tried to read Anders' face, but it was inscrutable. He felt Neria's hand slip into his and he gave it a gentle, reassuring squeeze.

After what seemed an interminably long time Anders nodded, the radiance eased off and he sat down on the edge of the bed, his hands in his lap. He frowned.

"There is a child. You're a little over a month along, Neria."

Neria swallowed, her expression horrified. "Can you tell who the…Can you…?"

Anders shook his head. "I'm sorry, Freckles, you know that isn't possible. You won't learn that until the babe is born. If at all."

Sighing, she averted her eyes and nodded. "I know. I was just hoping…."

"Thank you, Anders," Teagan's voice was quiet and thoughtful. "Could you leave us alone a few minutes?"

Once the healer had left the room, Teagan sat next to Neria who rolled over onto her side, facing away from him.

"It'll be all right, Neria."

"Stop saying that! You don't know that!"

"Eventually, things do settle down. People and lands heal. Look at Ferelden. Half the Bannorn was blighted, West Hills was uninhabitable. I thought the villagers and poor Connor would never heal from what happened at Redcliffe. This, too, shall pass, Neria."

"No. Even if they didn't take mage children away at birth, it's not going to be all right. We have no guarantee this is your child. I don't want to give that bastard anything."

"Do you think I love Gwyneth less for not being my own?"

"She's different, she is your brother's. She's family."

"_You're my family_, Neria. Whatever you have, whoever started it, I will love your child because it will be part of you. Vaughan isn't in our lives—he won't have anything to do with it. And I'd like to see the Chantry _try_ to take my child from me just for having you for a mother. We had no choice for Connor, but I'll send any templar who comes after you and my baby to the Black City for trying."

He lay down next to her—a little surprised she was letting him, and put his arm around her from behind. She covered his hand with her own, rubbing the back of it with her thumb.

"Have I ever told you how wonderful you are?" Neria asked, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Yes, but I can never hear _that_ enough," he said with a chuckle.

She laughed, too, and then her face got serious again. "You can't fight the Chantry, Teagan. I won't put Redcliffe at risk that way. We may have to get used to the idea we can't keep the babe."

"Don't give up the fight yet, Neria. I'll think of a way."

She nodded, but he knew she was just being pragmatic. This was precisely the reason she hadn't wanted children of her own.

This was a hazy, gray area for him, he wasn't sure of the law. He knew mages could marry and have families, though it was very rare. And the Chantry pretty much left them alone as far as he could tell—provided none of the children were actual mages and the mage in question didn't turn abomination and start running amuck.

Redcliffe had a mage living with his family when Teagan was a boy—Wilhelm, if he remembered right. His son was a few years younger than Teagan. Wilhelm had fought in the war with Orlais. After that, he had retired to a small village called Honnleath and Teagan wasn't sure what happened to them.

But he had a son, and he had kept him, that much Teagan knew, so there was precedent.

"I'll think of a way," he repeated and held her close to him.


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

As she and Teagan walked through the market that morning, they saw merchants scrambling to get their wares ready for the day. Normally this was a daily occurrence, but everyone had gone out of their way to prepare their best goods. They knew soon the market would be packed. The scents of pies, breads and roasted meats wafted to her, making her mouth water, despite the slight twinge of nausea she had awakened with. Mummers and jugglers walked through the square, and Neria saw a mother stop, buy a candy for her daughter, and pass it to the girl with a gentle caress to her cheek.

She put a hand over her stomach and thought again to the life she carried there. In two days the reality was slowly sinking into her and she turned to watch Teagan's profile as he walked beside her. Maker, she wanted her baby to be his. Despite his assurances that it mattered not to him who the babe's actual father was, it mattered to Neria. For one, she didn't want to give Vaughan that much validation and for another, she just really wished the life she had started had been made with love, not an act of violence.

They passed the scaffold where criminals of low birth, or those nobles stripped of title, were hanged. Children raced among the crowd, running up to the scaffold and daring to get closer and closer, the bravest being the one that actually touched the rope or the handle the executioner would pull to administer the king's justice. One of the men chased the boys away as they crisscrossed the preparations being made. With a few rude gestures, the boys ran off to continue their game, using sticks as swords and fighting mock battles.

Neria ducked her head, frowning, and sighed. She just wanted this day over with.

* * *

The trial itself was over pretty quickly. With Vaughan's own outburst in front of the nobles, and Neria's testimony, there was no defense. At least twelve elven women came forth and testified against him. For Shianni, it seemed as if once she had her say she finally could get some peace with what had happened.

Of his accomplices—Braden and Jonaley—no trace was found. The captain of Vaughan's guard was dead and none of the elven women could identify individual guards who may have raped them. As the nobles were more incensed one of their own had done this, they were keener on punishing Vaughan and the other two nobles if they could be found, instead of the common soldiers. Perhaps it was punishment enough none of them would be working for any of the nobles in Denerim and had to leave to seek employment elsewhere.

After the trial, his accusers were given a few minutes to address Vaughan, who stared at his feet with a sullen scowl. When it was her turn, Neria didn't know what to say. She looked at the man who had nearly killed her and had robbed her of her magic and her peace of mind.

She wanted to rail and scream at him like the others had done but she couldn't. That seemed so empty to her. Instead, she stepped toward him and with a shriek, she jumped him. The guards pulled her off, but not before she had raked her nails along his face. Teagan held her when they were pulled apart and Vaughan finally looked up at her. Perversely, the bastard was smiling and his gaze was proprietary.

"I knew you wouldn't lose the fire," he said. He sounded almost pleased about that, but she wasn't entirely sure what he had to be pleased about. Just another example of how twisted he was, she supposed.

"_You're crazy_! I can't wait for them to hang you!" she hissed.

"That's enough," said Kylon who pulled Vaughan from the room.

"He's insane, Neria," Teagan murmured in her ear. "But he'll be at an end soon."

* * *

The market was packed with elves as Vaughan's cart was pulled through the crowd to much cheering and jeering. Little dolls of straw with string or rope tied around their necks were swung in the air. Vaughan himself was pelted with raw vegetables. Shianni had a front row view of him and as Vaughan passed by she spat on him. He turned, hissing, but could do nothing and she knew it.

Neria watched from the crowd, blending in with the colors of everyone else. It seemed they were all in a festive mood with bright banners, their best clothing and high spirits. By all accounts she had heard of what he had done for years, she had no doubts this man would be missed by none.

As she watched, she hoped his eyes would meet hers, that she would find answers in them, but he stood, head downcast and acknowledging no one, a scowl plastered on his face. She wanted to see fear in his eyes but his face was inscrutable. The priestess asked him if he had any last words, but he declined with a shake of his head. A hood was placed around his neck and then the noose was tightened around his neck.

She watched as he dropped, his body twisting and struggling and she realized his neck hadn't been broken. The cheering around her grew louder as some of the elves actually took bets to see how long he would dangle and twitch.

"Maker's breath," she gasped. "I wanted him to suffer, but…but not like this."

Neria had thought she had it in her to watch, but in the end she couldn't. She slipped out of Teagan's arm and ran to the side of a hut nearby to retch helplessly. He followed and held her forehead and holding her hair back from her face while she got sick on the ground, murmuring soft words of comfort in her ear. Once she had composed herself, he beckoned to Anders to come attend her.

"Forgive me, love, if I have to finish this. I need to see this done," he said.

Anders was there and he stood by her, pulling her face into his chest. "You go, Teagan. I'll stay with her. We'll wait for you here."

Teagan patted her arm and she nodded and waved him away as he moved back into the crowd to watch silent and grim-faced.

"I hate him so much, Anders. Why can't I watch this?" she frowned.

"Because you're a spirit healer, Neria. That spirit is a part of you as much as your own soul. You can no more watch suffering than I can."

"Where is Nate?" she asked, trying to distract herself from what was happening. She had expected him to be here as well, but he was conspicuously absent.

"Who do you think is under that executioner's mask?" Anders answered her question with a question.

She marveled that what Vaughan had done had pushed Nathaniel to this point, but he had a dark place inside that he wouldn't let Neria see—only hinted at. Then she closed her eyes and buried her face in the compassionate Anders's chest with a soft sigh, thanking the Maker she had such good friends who cared for her.

"Holy Maker," Anders breathed. "They're going to be lucky to find a secluded enough spot to scatter his ashes to keep all these elves from defiling them."

For some reason that struck her immensely funny and she began to giggle.

After a few minutes there were a few sounds of disappointment from the crowd and she realized Vaughan must be dead. Then there was a cheer as they broke into exuberant excitement, the weight of years of abuse and suffering dropping off their shoulders. The more pessimistic elves believed that the next human lord would be as bad or worse, but for now they were extremely grateful to King Alistair for ridding them of their tormentor.

Teagan returned and took her hand in his and smiled down at her. She could see the weight of whatever had troubled him had eased in his eyes. His sleep had been as troubled as hers the past few weeks.

"Regina wants us to come to their estate when we leave. I already said we would, but are you up for it, love? She'll understand if you aren't."

Neria nodded. "I like Regina. She always makes me feel better."

Teagan grinned. "I thought you'd say that. We can pick up Gwyn and go visit with them a bit today."

* * *

Neria was glad when she arrived and found Regina and Nathaniel welcoming her. After the unsettling events of the day a quiet day spent in good company was just what she needed. Nathaniel, too, seemed much more at ease today, as if the memories of the events of the past month had finally left him.

As they were leaving Regina hugged her and whispered in her ear. "I'm glad you could come," she said. "I know today was rough for you, but Nathaniel needed to see you, to see you were going to be okay. It's silly, I know, but he blamed himself when you got hurt."

"That is silly," Neria agreed. "It wasn't his fault."

"Well, you know how he is. He's very protective of those he loves," she said. She giggled. "Maker bless them, men are such wonderful creatures!"

Once home and in Teagan's arms that night in bed, Neria lay thinking quietly. Closing her eyes and placing her cheek to his chest, she listened to the sound of his heartbeat. A broad smile curled her lips as she had to agree. Some men were such wonderful creatures!


	11. Chapter 11

_AN: In which Teagan is very sneaky, in a good way!_

* * *

Chapter Eleven

Two months later the season was done and most of the nobles had returned to their estates. The Guerrins would be leaving tomorrow, but Teagan had a mission that morning.

After Vaughan had been dealt with, he'd hoped Neria would return to something of who she had been prior to the attack, but she hadn't. As the days progressed, she slipped deeper into her melancholy and he wasn't sure how to pull her out of it. The only time she returned to something resembling the woman she had been was when Gwyneth occupied her time and mind.

It wasn't a perfect solution, but he had asked for and received a gift for Neria from the Couslands. It had been ready for pick up that morning though Fergus and Leah had already departed for their teyrnir. Teagan had promised to visit them next summer and was looking forward to it. Highever's milder climes and fresh sea air might be just what Neria needed to throw off this melancholy if she wasn't completely well by then.

To be fair, Teagan knew it was more than the rape that was troubling her. It was the baby growing inside her. Not only did she not know who the father was, but Teagan had found no solutions yet for the situation she was stuck in.

When he returned to the estate, the maid informed him that Neria was with Gwyneth in the nursery. Grinning at the look she would doubtless have on her face when she saw what he had, he entered with his hand behind his back. Gwyneth was having a tea party with Neria and Anders and she raced over to him when he entered.

"Papa! What do you have behind your back?"

"I have a little present for Neria," he said.

He set down the squirming mabari pup in front of Neria and the little ball of honey colored fur yipped and crawled into her lap. Gwyneth squealed with delight and immediately wanted to hold him. Teagan plucked her up.

"You're too young for a mabari yet, Gwyn. You can have one when you're older. He isn't imprinted yet, Neria, and I thought maybe…." Teagan said. "The Couslands said he was the pick of the litter. And, well, he's one of Muffin's…."

Biting her bottom lip, tears slipping out of her eyes she picked up the squirming puppy and held him.

"He's beautiful, Teagan," she whispered.

The puppy yipped and licked the moisture off her face then squirmed to be let go. She set him down and watched him waddle over to the middle of the room and squat, urinating on the floor.

"Well, we'll have to break him of that…." Teagan grinned sheepishly.

Next, he waddled over to Ser Pounce-a-Lot who hissed and puffed out his tail. The puppy barked and tried to chase after the cat, which ran to Anders and slipped into the bag he always carried the cat in.

"On that note, I think its time to say goodbye," said Anders, standing.

Neria stood and hugged him.

"Thank you, Anders. Maybe I'll see you next Landsmeet."

"Maybe. If I can stand traveling with that Orlesian harpy. I swear she brought me this time just to get on my nerves."

"Well, I for one am glad she did."

"Indeed, I missed you, too." He grinned and winked mischievously at her. "Whenever you're ready to dump the old man there, just call me."

"I'm standing right here!" Teagan sighed.

Neria, Anders and Teagan never took such teasing seriously. It was just the younger man's way to express his feelings in a way that saved face for them all.

Next, Gwyneth held out her arms to hug him and Anders took her from Teagan for a moment, giving her a gentle squeeze.

"Be good for Teagan and Neria, poppet," he said.

"I will, Uncle Anders."

Teagan walked Anders to the door and the mage paused.

"You've been really good through this, Teagan. I know it doesn't seem like much, but she _is_ improving. Just be patient with her."

"I will."

"Good, otherwise I'll have to come back and light a fire under you!"

Teagan grinned, but he had the distinct feeling the mage was being quite literal.

* * *

Two weeks later they were settled back in Redcliffe. The journey home had been a trial for Neria, as her morning sickness combined viciously with motion sickness, necessitating several stops so she could be sick. Once home and in familiar surroundings, Teagan could tell Neria felt more comfortable.

That feeling didn't last long. At about four months along, she could no longer hide her pregnancy and she woke every morning in a cold sweat imagining this was the day Greagoir would arrive in Redcliffe to take her baby away. It got to the point Teagan began to worry about her sanity.

It was starting to affect her daily schedule, making her short with everyone until the servants who never before had complaint began to take the issue up with Teagan. As seneschal, and one of Teagan's oldest friends, Andrew was the one who broached the sensitive subject.

When he had closed the door to Teagan's study and afforded them some privacy, Andrew got right to the heart of the matter. That was something Teagan always appreciated in his friend—this ability to cut through all the niceties and get to the heart of the issue.

"Teagan, we've been friends a long time and I've been asked by everyone here to…."

Sighing, Teagan put down his pen and placed both hands on his desk. "I realize she's been difficult…"

"Difficult? Teagan, that's putting it mildly. She's obviously miserable and it's making everyone around her miserable. I've known pregnant women to get a little…well, emotional, but she's beyond that. And she's a mage."

"A mage afraid to use her magic."

"Is that the entirety of her problem? I know she can use her magic. When we took that trip to see to Rainesfere last week, she was dropping fireballs down on that small band of darkspawn without difficulty."

"She's lost fine control," he explained.

"And that's all?"

"No," Teagan frowned, not wanting to bring this up with anyone, but he trusted Andrew. "She's afraid the Chantry will take the baby."

"Why would they do that?"

"Well, I realize it's not common knowledge, but she told me Circle mothers don't get to keep their babies. Upon birth they're taken and placed somewhere else, presumably in the Chantry."

"But she isn't a part of the Circle anymore. She's here, in Redcliffe. And she's with you—it's your child, too."

"It's still a possibility. It's why she hasn't wanted a child before now." A new thought insinuated itself into Teagan's mind. "What do you think of Neria, Andrew?"

He shrugged. "You know how I feel. She's smart, hard working and loyal. A lovely girl, normally very pleasant to be around when she isn't being…well…a bitch. Most people here in Redcliffe really seem to love her. I understand she was instrumental in saving the town from the demon that was plaguing it during the Blight."

"Yes. The villagers have long accepted her. They still tell tales in the tavern about her and the night she and her companions ended the undead menace. I've loved her ever since I brought her back to Rainesfere, maybe even before that. I've wanted to marry her for years, but she's never agreed to it. But now…. Perhaps this will put her mind at ease and I can finally…."

Grinning, Andrew nodded. "And the babe, should the Chantry come sniffing around, will have legitimacy. They won't be able to take it from its father unless it becomes a mage."

Teagan couldn't stop the broad smile spreading over his face. "Stick around, Andrew, I'll need a best man."

In the back of his mind was also the thought that another man had thought he would be able to take her and abuse her without consequence because she lacked that legal status. Admittedly, Vaughan was insane, but he couldn't shake the feeling that Vaughan had expected it was his due as any nobleman because Neria wasn't his wife. Everyone understood that she was his partner in all ways except on paper, but still Vaughan had taken her without fear of reprisal, believing her simply Teagan's mistress.

If this protected her, and by extension her child, in more ways than one, then surely she would agree to the union.

Teagan found her in the garden, admiring the roses. Her mabari pup, which was always at her side, was tugging on the hem of her skirt trying to get her to play with him. Gwyneth was pulling weeds nearby with a huge hat on her head and her little hands stuffed into a pair of Neria's gardening gloves. Seeing them there, in such a scene of domestic happiness, it was hard to believe this was the worried young mother who was driving the castle staff crazy.

He came up behind her and put his arms around Neria, palms resting on the swell of her belly, his chin on her shoulder. She smiled and placed her hands on his.

"I hear you've been out of sorts, love," he began.

"I know, I'm sorry. I apologize as soon as I say or do something, but I know that doesn't take back what I've done. I've just been so worried. And before you say it, I know that's no excuse either."

"I think I have a solution to that," his voice was hesitant. Always before, she had turned him down. "Marry me, Neria."

She frowned. "I thought you were serious. That's not even funny, Teagan."

"Am I laughing, love? I'm serious." He was aware of Gwyneth watching them now. "Marry me. The babe will have both a _father_ and a mother, and the Chantry won't be able to take it unless it's a mage."

She paused and actually seemed to be pondering it. Gwyneth came over to them, frowning.

"Is the Chantry going to take the baby?" she asked.

"No, they won't. I have a plan to stop them, if Neria agrees and marries me," Teagan couldn't stop grinning.

"Mama, are you going to marry Papa?" Gwyneth seemed delighted with that idea.

Neria's jaw dropped.

"That's…tricky! Damn you, Teagan!" She wriggled out of his arms and knelt down in front of her daughter. "No, I won't let the Chantry take the baby and neither will Teagan. And I suppose…." She stood and regarded him. "I'll marry you, Teagan, but you'll regret this."

"Somehow, I doubt that, love. I'll summon Mother Hannah and…"

Her brows knitted together and she shook her head. "Oh, no, Arl Teagan, you don't get it so easily. I want a real wedding, with banners and music and flowers and a nice new gown and cake," she said, punctuating each word with her finger poking into his doublet.

Gwyneth squealed, clapped her hands and raced into the castle yelling "cake, cake" at the top of her lungs.

Neria huffed, but didn't seem as displeased as she intimated.

"This is going to be quite the scandal, Teagan," she sighed.

He put his arms around her. "I know, won't it be wonderful? And I want you to plan the biggest, most ostentatious wedding ever. Invite all our friends and all our detractors so they can celebrate, or have their noses rubbed in it!"

"Perhaps, when we go to Denerim for the after harvest Landsmeet?" she suggested. "We could winter there and I can have the baby."

"Whatever you would like," Teagan acquiesced. She could have whatever she wanted if it meant she would finally marry him.

* * *

There was another reason for going to Denerim. She didn't like it, but she had to admit that she would feel safer if Anders was there to attend to her. She knew women gave birth every day to babies without a mage present, but this was her first and she was a Grey Warden. She had no idea how that would affect the pregnancy.

But what if the templars came before then? Or took her in Denerim? She didn't feel safe.

"Perhaps you should summon Mother Hannah," she said.

"Neria?"

"We can get married here, so it's legal and then have a second ceremony in Denerim with our friends in the fall? Can we do that?"

"We can do whatever we want, love."

* * *

The preparations took a bit longer than expected and it was actually the next afternoon that saw Teagan and Neria standing before Revered Mother Hannah and several of Redcliffe's citizens who had gathered in the chantry, and formalizing their union. Not the most romantic of circumstances, but Teagan didn't mind. The peace of mind this would bring to Neria more than compensated for any informality of the ceremony. And they weren't exactly the most conventional couple anyway.

There was a wedding feast spread in the main square in front of the chantry on several long tables. Several of the villagers had some real skill at playing instruments and so there was music and dancing, although Neria just watched as Teagan held onto his niece's hands, her little feet placed on his, and danced around with her.

Teagan even saw that the old elven man who had found Neria in Denerim had come to Redcliffe to live and he was delighted to be able to thank him again, inquiring after his health. Andros still seemed sad, but was accepting of the situation, and had maybe gained a measure of peace.

When dusk arrived, torches were lit so people could continue the revels.

Teagan was sitting watching the dancing villagers, Gwyneth sleeping in his lap, her little head pillowed on his shoulder. Neria was under his arm, the excitement of the day and the relief it had brought to her mind finally having taken its toll on her, and she was sleeping, her head pillowed on his other shoulder. Her mabari pup lay curled in her lap, her fingers holding him loosely. Nan moved over to take the child, but he shook his head with a huge grin and she smiled back at him as she returned to her seat.

He wanted to enjoy this closeness with his little family as long as he could.

A bit later he nodded to Nan who took the sleeping child from him and he gently shook Neria, trying to wake her. She was so exhausted she didn't rouse and he smiled. Carefully he picked her up and began the walk up the hill toward Castle Redcliffe, Neria's puppy, Cookie, following at his heels.

Setting Neria down on their bed and the puppy on his pillow nearby, he went to the nursery and tucked in Gwyneth with a kiss to her cheek. Then he returned to his room.

Neria lay sleeping still, and it seemed for the first time in a long while she wasn't disturbed by bad dreams. He pulled off her slippers and robes and tucked her under the sheets. Then pulling off his own garments, slipped in beside her to hold her as she slept.


	12. Chapter 12

_AN: Poor Cullen. If you save the Circle and ask for the mage boon, he goes batshit crazy and starts cutting a swath through apprentices in the tower before escaping off into the night. In this chapter I pose one hypothesis as to what might have triggered his 'episode', at least in this reality._

* * *

Chapter Twelve

The next few weeks were a blur of activity for Neria as she made up to everyone in the castle for her earlier bout of depression and people began to relax around her again.

She wrote to Leah and Regina and told them she and Teagan would be renewing their vows in Denerim once they went for the after harvest Landsmeet. She chuckled when she got the letter back from Regina practically hearing her squealing and giggling with delight as she wanted to plan everything. Leah wanted to be the one to host the reception afterward. Other invites were sent to nobles not so amenable to the marriage and perversely, Neria gleefully imagined the sour reception those would be received with.

More than once she put her hand protectively over her baby and talked to it about her day and she found she was really looking forward to seeing her child now that the worry was gone. There might be a sticky moment or two with the Chantry, but they couldn't say anything. Teagan was a powerful arl, Redcliffe being situated strategically between Orlais and Ferelden, and having the favor of both teyrns in the country—in addition to the King—didn't hurt either. Even if her own fame as their national hero wasn't enough to protect her, Neria had enough people who cared about her to ensure she and her child were both safe.

It was a strange feeling, to feel safe. She had rarely known that in the tower, where the templars watched them constantly, some almost eagerly, for any signs of possession. The only templar who had been kind to her was Cullen and that had ended disastrously. Then the Blight had happened and traveling with Loghain's bounty hunters and assassins always after her and her companions had forced her to watch her back constantly. She had finally begun to feel safe with Teagan, and she had known it for too short a time before Vaughan had shattered it. But now she was slowly recovering it again. With him dead, the only thought that marred her peace of mind was worry over the paternity of her child, but she tried not to let such thoughts dominate her days since there was little she could do about it.

The summer progressed swiftly, the heat making her uncomfortable as she began to get ungainly. She was starting to get tired of being pregnant though she was still months from delivery. And she didn't anticipate delivering until around Firstday.

It was late summer when Teagan got the letter from the Circle.

"Connor is ready for his Harrowing," Teagan informed Neria. "I'd like to attend."

"It's not something we can attend, but we can be there prior and afterward. If…."

She didn't want to tell him what would happen if he failed. Then, since failure was a real possibility she had to say something to warn him of the consequences.

"Teagan, this is a necessary test for any mage. They have to see if the mage has the will to resist temptation."

"Temptation?"

"Connor must go into the Fade, willingly. There he will confront a demon and he will have to defeat it."

"And if he doesn't?"

She sighed. "He becomes an abomination and the templars will be forced to kill him."

As soon as it was out of her mouth, she regretted saying it. Teagan went white and frowned, standing up and beginning to pace.

"Do you think what happened to him before might influence his test? Make him more vulnerable?"

She didn't want to give him false hope, but there was one she was clinging to.

"Actually, I think because of what he went through, he will be more wary in the Fade and resist the demons more readily. But that's just my opinion." He looked at her, a worried frown on his face and she stood to put her arms around him. "I'm sorry, Teagan. It's for his own protection and that of every one around him. If he can resist, he can join the Circle as a fully Harrowed mage. If he can't, he's a danger to everyone."

"I know. I…I can't believe I once thought that death would be merciful when we believed we didn't have any other means of removing the demon from him. There won't be any last minute rescue will there?"

"No. And it never ends, Teagan. Demons will always hunger for his spirit and body. That's why the Harrowing is so important."

"Neria…do you…?" The question hung between them.

She didn't need clarification to know what he was asking. "Sometimes. After I was attacked by Vaughan, I was plagued by them. Demons are attracted to that kind of pain, but Irving's teaching held. Even if I can't do magic as well as I used to, my will is still strong. The Fade is…a place where the will holds sway. It's different from the real world."

She shuddered and his arms tightened around her.

"I want to leave tomorrow."

"I…don't think we should bring Gwyneth," Neria said. "It will be hard enough to come home and explain if he…Well, I don't want to bring her there and have to tell her afterward."

"Let's not borrow trouble. Let's assume that all will go well."

She nodded and hugged him tightly.

* * *

Connor was elated to see them and know that Neria would soon be giving him a little cousin, and was glad they were there for his Harrowing, even if they would be unable to go to the chamber themselves. Neria wondered how much the boy knew about the Harrowing. Even if he wouldn't know the particulars, there was always talk.

She had quailed and remained close to Teagan when they first entered the tower, still not entirely sure Greagoir wouldn't seize her and hold her until her due date. While not a common occurrence, there were children born to mage mothers in the tower. She wished Wynne wasn't dead, having passed away four years ago. She knew Wynne's son had been taken from her without her ever seeing him. How horrid that must have been! It would have been good to talk to her about her fears.

Greagoir had frowned at her when she entered, but he said nothing upon seeing Teagan with her. Obviously, the Circle didn't remove the children of mages if they had family. She took a deep breath and was breathing easier as they waited in the family visitor room.

As her pregnancy had progressed and the baby developed, she had been unable to find comfortable positions to sit, stand or lay down. It seemed the little tyke was standing on her bladder and necessitating frequent trips to the privy. The worst was when it kicked her there, forcing a quick run before she had an accident.

Sighing, she tried coaxing it to the side, but the stubborn baby refused to move.

"Maker's breath, Teagan, this child is as stubborn as you are," she complained.

He raised a brow and grinned.

"You laugh, Arl Teagan, and you'll find you get put on diaper duty when this kid comes out."

He helped her stand.

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, I should be able to manage. There are mages and templars all over the Tower. Privacy is the issue not assistance moving through the halls."

She kissed his cheek and smiling, moved down the hall toward the apprentice dormitories. Those were the closest and she could pass through there.

Once finished, she stepped back into the dorm and saw a familiar face. Her hand rose to cover her baby protectively as a stab of fear shot through her. Once, she had considered Cullen almost a friend. Until her return to the Tower had found the Circle in a broken state, Uldred's abominations running amuck and demons attacking templars and mages alike.

She had found him on the level just under the Harrowing chamber, force caged by Uldred or one of his blood mages. He had been tortured for days, the last templar alive of those left to fend for themselves in the interior of the tower. She had never learned the extent of what had been done to him, but having fought demons and blood mages herself, she knew how their powers worked, twisting your thoughts and desires and using them against you. It had broken him, his charmingly naive demeanor twisted to hatred toward her and all mages. After that, she had avoided him when she came to the tower to visit Connor.

This was the first time she had seen him since the day she had freed the Circle from Uldred.

For a moment, there was actual joy on his face, a naked and honest immediate reaction to seeing her, then it hooded and he frowned. His jaw worked and he glared at her, his eyes seeming to fix on her swollen belly, his hands curling into fists. Oh, Maker! He looked like Vaughan, all at once possessive and filled with madness.

"A trick…" he muttered, tears springing to his eyes. "A cruel trick…you made me think I was free…I'm still in the cage…you can't be here! You can't be her! She's…but I never touched her! I won't let you do this anymore! Stop taunting me with her face!"

Pulling his blade, he advanced toward her. Panicking, she reached out with her magic, her hands spread as wide as she could, the words of power springing to her lips. Frost swirled around her as the room began to grow very cold. She could hear the apprentices in the room screaming in fear and through the snowstorm she summoned she saw Cullen moving toward her, his templar abilities making him resistant to her magic, though he seemed to be affected to some degree.

He reached out before he neared her, buffeted by the freezing wind, and called forth his training onto her. The flash of bright light stunned her and she dropped to the floor, her head spinning. No! She couldn't let him hurt her baby!

As he neared her, blade raised to strike, she tried one last desperate spell. Pulling the energy from the air around her, she grabbed his metal encased calf and electricity shot through him, making him jerk and twitch, the blade dropping harmlessly from senseless fingers. Then he collapsed before her, lying still.

* * *

Teagan heard the screams and the sound of thunder that rumbled _inside_ the Tower. Drawing his blade he ran into the hall to see several young mages running from the closest rooms. Terrified for Neria, he ran to the door and saw a room glistening white with ice. At first he didn't see her. Then as he entered, the crackle of the ice breaking under his feet almost drowned out her quiet whisper.

Behind one of the beds that had been overturned, he found her holding an unconscious templar, rocking him, her face buried in his chest and weeping.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry…I'm so…so…sorry," she was repeating over and over like a litany.

* * *

"You mean to tell me this man has been loose in the Tower and my nephew was exposed to him for the past six years? He could have snapped at any moment. Thank the Maker my wife stopped him!"

Teagan was livid and nothing Greagoir could say was easing that anger.

Neria sat nearby, Cullen's head pillowed in her lap, softly chanting a sleeping spell. Shocked when she saw he hadn't been well for a long time, she'd told Teagan as she tended him that she could feel the damage the madness had done to his body. And no amount of magic could heal the mental damage he'd suffered and that had continued to plague him over the years.

Teagan wanted Cullen in a cell for attacking her, not to have her sympathy or healing magic. He certainly didn't want the man so close to his wife and child, but Neria refused to let anyone separate them.

"I knew he…was a bit more devoted," said Greagoir. "I didn't realize it extended to attacking innocents. He…seemed to be recovering. None of us knew the extent of what had happened to him, though I suspect it was far worse than we'd feared. The lad will get help."

"Help? I want him locked up! He's a menace!"

"He is not a menace," Neria said, quietly. Both men turned to look at her. "He's sick. He's hurting, but I can't heal this. He needs rest."

"Love, he attacked you," Teagan's voice softened as he looked at her. "You could have been hurt. Our baby…."

"Is fine, Teagan. We're both fine, but he isn't. This is partly my fault. I never encouraged him, but I knew he had feelings for me. The blood mages, maybe desire demons, twisted that. I never even came back after the Blight and checked on him. I was so hurt by what he said that I…wanted him to suffer…so I never came back to help him."

She looked downcast, focusing on her patient, tears slipping out of her eyes.

"What kind of healer does something like that, Teagan?" she asked, quietly, ashamed.

Teagan sighed. He should have known she wouldn't see a madman, but just another person in pain instead. He moved over to sit on his haunches beside her and patted her hand gently. He just wanted to get her out of here.

"He…he thought he was back in the cage the blood mages put him in. He probably thought his safety all these years was all a lie and seeing…me must have triggered it."

She knew it wasn't just her, but she wasn't going to say that in front of Greagoir. Once, Cullen had protected her from Garrett. She had to do the same for him now. There had been genuine joy when he saw her. He hadn't snapped until he saw her stomach. It gave her new insights into just how obsessed he had been and what had been done to him.

"It's a good thing there were no apprentices in there," said Irving. "Since your fine control isn't reliable, you would have hit them as well."

When her hands had first been injured she had written Irving, hoping he had some suggestions to help her regain her magic. He had been unable to offer any solutions, but just talking to someone else who could sympathize with her loss had helped her deal with it better.

"Actually, First Enchanter, there were several apprentices present during the attack," said one of the templars standing nearby.

"And no one was injured?"

"Just Cullen."

A look passed between Irving and Neria, and Teagan frowned, perplexed until he realized what had transpired. Neria's control was back. Maybe not fully, maybe it would never recover fully, but she had enough to trust her magic again. Closing her eyes, a small smile spread over her lips.

"Thank you, Cullen. I was afraid of using my full powers, but I had to protect my baby. I…I owe you so much I can never repay."

Teagan shook his head. If he lived for a hundred years he would never fully understand Neria.

"We'll see Cullen gets help, Neria," said Irving. "For now, you have a Harrowed nephew to go congratulate!"

In the excitement, everyone had nearly forgotten Connor was now a full member of the Circle. When Neria hugged Conner, Teagan hugged her from behind, pulling Connor into the embrace as well, relieved that _all_ of his family was safe.


	13. Chapter 13

_AN: And so, I come to the end of another tale. I'd like to again thank Cadsuane for her editing skills, she really smooths my narrative out nicely without overpowering my writing. I wish I could pay her for this! ^.^ I'd like to thank Bioware for giving us these marvelous characters and this world with it's detailed background. Thanks to all of you who read my story and especially thank you to all those who wrote me reviews. I love the feedback!_

* * *

Chapter Thirteen

The leaves had turned and fallen, after the crops had been gathered, the nobles began their trek to Denerim for the Landsmeet. The most exciting news in Denerim was that Edwina had last month delivered the next Theirin heir. A little girl had been born to Alistair and his queen whom they called Lily.

Earlier that week, Grand Cleric Elemena had shown up and wasn't pleased that Neria was married to the Arl of Redcliffe, but the old biddy couldn't very well do much. Neria's status as a Grey Warden placed her in a unique position.

She had listened outside the door as Teagan argued at length with the woman and finally emerged, haggard but satisfied. He grinned at Neria and clasped her cheeks, kissing her. She cocked a brow at him.

"You're the Hero of Ferelden. I just reminded her of everything you did for the country and that she, and everyone else, owed you their lives."

"And even Circle mages can marry if they do something noteworthy."

"I don't think it gets more 'noteworthy' than that."

"Uh huh. What did you really say, Teagan?" she asked.

"All right, I agreed to allow a templar to come live in Redcliffe castle to watch over you," the admission was reluctant.

"Not…."

"No, not him. Maker's breath, I don't want _him _within a hundred miles of you. Actually, it's another nobleman. Ser Irminric, the templar you freed from Howe's dungeons."

"I know him. He's nice."

"Well, he captured Jowan singlehandedly, tracking him down without his phylactery before Loghain's men took him down, and Elemena felt if anyone could handle a blood mage gone amuck it was him."

"And I look like I'm a blood mage about to run amuck?"

"Sorry, love, it's the best I can do. She did agree to sanction our wedding."

She smiled then and put her arms around his neck.

"Teagan, I don't care. Ser Irminric is a fine man. I've a great deal of respect for his sister, Bann Alfstanna. If this is what it takes to get them to agree to back off, then I'll do it. Anything to smooth the path."

* * *

The ceremony was beautiful. Regina had planned everything to the littlest detail and to Neria it felt like she had a mother helping with such things. The Cousland estate was decorated, and while it was ostensibly their reception, it was also one of the early salons of the season.

Now, Neria sat next to Teagan at the dinner table watching everyone. She could tell just which ones disapproved of her and she made a point of smiling at them the most, occasionally waving at someone to show off the ring Teagan had placed on her finger.

Her gaze turned to him. He was talking to Alistair sitting on his other side and she watched him adoringly. He always made her feel happy and safe no matter what they did. Her hand crept over the tablecloth to his, her fingers slipping into his palm. Without breaking his conversation, he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

Smiling sweetly, she slipped off her slipper and slid her foot along his calf. He blinked in surprise and looked over at her with a grin, one brow raised curiously. This was the first time since the rape she had acted in a playfully sensual way with him and she knew he was remembering their games in Rainesfere that first winter together.

But they had guests and as much as he wanted her—she could see it in his eyes—they would have to wait until they were home. Well, she had waited this long, what was a couple of hours?

They had all night and tonight Neria was determined to give Teagan his wedding night.

* * *

Later, at home, once Gwyneth had been put in the nursery, Neria had suggested a walk in the garden, trying to work up her nerve again. Once there, she had kicked off her shoes and ran ahead of him laughing, skipping on the stones. Teagan watched, a little worried, but she picked her way nimbly across to the little bridge. He picked up her slippers and followed her.

When he reached her, he saw her cheeks were flushed and she was breathing heavily. It took a lot more out of her now to move like that. He caressed her throat, his fingers following the collarbone and the neckline plunging down into her cleavage. They paused on the little locket nestled there.

She leaned forward, pulling him down to her and nibbled on his earlobe. "Catch me if you can," she whispered breathily in his ear.

Then, with a giggle, she dashed off.

"Neria!" he called after her, then chuckled and followed.

She giggled and raced up the hallway not far from their rooms. She turned, half expecting him to cut her off at the corner, but he wasn't there. She stopped and looked around, puzzled.

Sighing, she walked to their room, stepping gingerly on the cold stone floor, thinking she shouldn't have pulled off her slippers as it was starting to get cool at night.

Maybe it had been too long since they had been together. Perhaps Teagan didn't think of her that way anymore now that she was heavy with child? When she had suggested the walk in the garden, instead of going to their chambers and a warm bed, he had been far too accommodating.

He was waiting outside their open door, leaning against the wall. He held out her slippers.

"I believe you dropped these, love."

She smiled and reached for them, but he caught her hand and lifted her up from the floor into his arms. Sighing happily, she laid her head on his chest, her arms around his neck.

"So, I caught you!" Teagan grinned.

Her jaw dropped in disbelief and he laughed. "You did not! I…I…."

"What do I get?"

Behind the bravado and play, she saw the question. He was leaving her an out if she chose to take it. Instead, she smiled at him and nodded slightly.

"Anything your heart desires, my lord."

"I _desire_ but one thing."

"To have your wicked way with me?"

"Can you think of a better reward?"

"Indeed, I can't. I love you, Teagan," she whispered.

Scoffing, he laughed as he carried her into their room toward their bed, kicking the door shut behind him. "So easily I get it this time. I think marriage is making you soft, love."

He set her down on their bed and kissed the pale skin on her shoulder. She reached into his waistband and brushed his erection with her fingers.

"Seems to be having the opposite affect on you!"

"Oh, Maker, Neria! Damn, I let my guard down."

Giggling, she pushed him back on the bed and straddled his hips. Her lips came down to press against his, teasing his open so their tongues could plunder each other's mouths.

"Getting rusty in your old age?" she teased, breathing against his mouth.

"Old, am I? Hah! You little minx, I'll show you!"

With a mock growl, he playfully pushed her skirts up, revealing soft pale thighs. He ran his fingers along them, caressing her supple skin with his fingers.

Thus the banter went long into the night and Neria, no longer afraid, gave Teagan his wedding night. And then some.

* * *

Three months later.

Teagan paced nervously outside the door. Anders and the midwives had been with Neria since early that morning and once the pains had begun to come in earnest, Anders shooed Teagan out the door. They couldn't work with him getting underfoot.

A muffled curse and something slammed against the door. A midwife came running out, looked at them, and then ran to the other door and out of the room.

"What's taking so long?" Teagan asked for the hundredth time. "Does it always take this long?"

Anders had explained that the birth might be difficult. There were size differences between humans and elves, and since children born to human and elf unions were always human, the difficulty of such births was increased.

In the room with him were Michael, Fergus, Alistair, Nathaniel, Anora and Edwina. Regina and Leah were in the room with Neria as she struggled to deliver her baby.

Fergus scoffed. "Amateur. I wasn't this nervous."

Michael grinned. "No, big brother, you were worse!"

"I was not…."

"It'll be all right, Teagan," Edwina scowled at the Cousland brothers who pretended not to see her glare. "She's strong and she'll be all right."

"Mother used to tease us about how horrible it was giving birth to us. According to her, we both came out thirty pounds, with a full set of teeth and walking. And I don't really believe that story about the three day labor…."

"Michael, that's not helping!" admonished Anora.

"I don't know. That shade of green he's turning is kind of funny. It's making _me_ feel better anyway," Michael replied.

_She's so small…if this kills her…._ The thought rose unbidden in Teagan's mind.

It had never occurred to Teagan that she might die from this. Damn Vaughan. If this was his doing…well, Teagan hoped the Maker had some special torment for that bastard's soul in the Beyond. And if the child was his, Teagan didn't want to think of what he would do if he cost Neria her life.

After a bit, the room grew quiet and everyone held their breaths. Then, a tiny insistent cry issued forth from the room. Everyone grouped around him, congratulating him and clapping their hands on his back. A few minutes later, Anders emerged, a huge grin on his face.

"She's fine and so is your daughter, Teagan. Let the midwives get her cleaned up and you can go in." Anders pulled him to one side, lowering his voice as the others spoke excitedly. "Teagan, the birth was difficult."

Through his happy relief, the words slowly sunk in.

"And…?"

"She lost a lot of blood and I think we almost lost her. I'm glad I stuck around in Denerim after all. I was able to heal the damage the birth caused, but she's too small to be having human children. There are things she can do to keep from getting pregnant again. Neria knows what to do. We discussed this before her delivery."

The nanny brought Gwyneth and with his daughter in hand, he entered their bedroom. Inside, the midwives had finished cleaning up the new mother and her child, and Neria was propped up on pillows, holding the baby, their friends gathered round them. Teagan set Gwyneth on the bed and moved close to Neria his fingers brushing the infant's cheek.

She had a shock of red hair on the top of her head and beautiful large blue eyes.

"I think she looks a little like Gwyn," said Regina, gently pulling back the infant's swaddling so they could all see her face.

"I think she does, a little around the eyes," Teagan agreed. "And I think that's your chin too, Gwyn."

Gwyn had been playing "Got your nose" with Teagan the other morning, and grabbed her nose, glaring at him. "Did you give her my nose, too, Papa?"

The implications of what they were saying struck Teagan. Neria frowned, thoughtfully, then her smile spread across her face.

"She does have a lot of Guerrin features," Neria agreed.

This news would do much to put Neria at ease and Teagan felt a huge swell of relief knowing this was his flesh and blood. He would have loved her child regardless, but he knew it had been important to Neria.

"So, what will we call her?" He was curious.

"I asked Lanaya some elven names, but I didn't like any of them. Then she suggested Kara if it was a redhead and a girl. The elven word for red is carad."

"Kara, that's pretty. I like it."

"Mama?"

"What is it, Gwyn?"

"When will I have red hair? I want red hair!"

Teagan laughed, pulling Gwyneth into his lap and putting an arm around his wife, he watched the infant sleeping in her arms and thought that life had never been better.

The End


End file.
